


Unwritten

by nerdlife4eva



Series: Our Story [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Author Keith, Bookstore Owner Pidge, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, The Holts are Frustrated, they are stupid and awkward but somehow things work out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: K. Kogane is the author of the best-selling novel series Voltron: Space Pilots Save the World. He has become famous for his epic tales of space battles, intergalactic wars, and the most unresolved love arc ever created.His fans have no idea that Keith has been basing the torturous love of his heroes on his own ill-fated love life.Except one fan. The one who shares a name with one-half of the world's favorite fictional ship.AKA, the story where pining Keith writes Voltron to try to get over the fact that Shiro walked out of his life when he left for college and Shiro spends every day driving the poor Holts crazy with his own ridiculous pining.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second Voltron fanfiction but my 123 posted fanwork :) I had this story banging around in my mind and couldn't resist writing it! 
> 
> If you like it and want to talk Voltron (since I am not connected in the fandom and have no one to squeal with) please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!
> 
>  
> 
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

_“This is your captain speaking. We are beginning our final approach into Boston, the weather looks clear and the skyline is beautiful. For all of those returning, welcome home and for those of you visiting, we hope you enjoy your stay in our northeastern paradise. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the descent.”_

Keith snorted at the pilot’s chipper voice, a small thought in his head wondering how the man could still sound so enthusiastic on a flight that was inevitably the last leg of many hours of work. Pressing his forehead to the cool plastic wall of the airplane, Keith surveyed the twinkling lights of the city, smiling at their ability to mimic the stars above them.

Thirty cities in seventy-two days was the plan and Keith was staring down at city number thirteen. Lucky number thirteen, he had said, teasing Allura about her bizarre superstition around the number. They never booked hotel rooms on the thirteenth floor and Allura refused to fly on the date as well. There were times that it created a logistical nightmare, but she had done so much for Keith that he couldn’t really deny her this one request (no matter how ridiculous he found it to be.)

Next to him the sounds of snores made him raise an eyebrow, moving his gaze from night sky to the sleeping man next to him. Why Coran had insisted on being part of this tour was beyond Keith, as was Coran’s ability to fall asleep on any flight without a care as to the duration of their time spent in the air. Across the aisle, Allura remained focused on her laptop, eyes narrowed and fingers pausing only for brief seconds before tapping away at the keys again. Keith smiled when she looked up at him, only one side of his mouth involved in the gesture, and then returned his concentration to the approaching cityscape.

Wispy clouds hung outside his window, appearing like suspended cotton balls as the plane cut through the darkened blue of the sky. He tried to commit the color to memory, attempting in vain to form the exact sentence he would use to describe its appearance. Failing on his third attempt, he concentrated on the way the lights of the city’s buildings illuminated the lines of civilization, again trying to craft a description in his mind to accurately capture what his eyes were seeing. Crumpling his mental paper and tossing it into the trash can that had become the back of his mind, Keith sighed and sank further back into his seat, eyes trained to the ceiling and feeling unworthy of seeing such a beautiful sight as Boston rising to meet them as they descended from their place in the sky.

He had produced six novels in three years, each more celebrated than the last and the first set to transform to a movie within the upcoming year. He had woven tales of space warriors, defenders of the universe, and love found and lost. Keith had built a world that sometimes felt more real than his life, a tangible place he could escape to when reality seemed unbearable. He crafted characters who made people fall in love with them, root for them, and hope for them. Every sentence became another quote to be stitched on a pillow or used as a Twitter tagline.

Keith had created an empire that was being touted as the greatest story ever told. Reviewers called it inspirational, fans called it their reason to live, and Keith called it the single most terrifying decision he had ever made. A world that had only ever existed in his mind was now a part of so many other people’s dreams and he didn’t want to let any of them down. They deserved to know the rest of the story, they deserved to know if their heroes would live happily ever after, and they deserved the answers to all their questions and speculations which had set Tumblr on fire for years. The world wanted to know how the story ended.

Unfortunately, despite being the captain at the helm of the ship, Keith still didn’t know where it was supposed to go. Groaning under his breath, Keith closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, trying to unsuccessfully will away another round of self-doubt and introspective interrogation.

The first book had started out as a way to exorcise his feelings of being left behind. Everyone had a person in their past who had slipped through their fingers, everyone had decisions that they wish they would have made differently, and everyone had moments they wished they could relive so they could choose the other option. Keith knew that inventing time travel was currently out of the question, so he used his first book to explore all his roads not traveled, disguising the pain of those decisions behind aliens, intergalactic wars, and sentinel robots.

Never in a million years did he think his self-edited, self-published little space pilots novel would spark the interest that it did. Two months after its debut on Amazon, Keith was fielding phone calls from publishers and agents alike. They wanted to know if the story was going to continue and how many books he planned to write. They asked about his goals for his publication times and his thoughts on total word count. Mostly they asked how much it would cost to claim a piece of the publishing action for themselves.

Keith had ignored or turned down every request to absorb his novel from a self-published social media phenomenon into a highly-marketed first book in a major series. He didn’t care for the pushy attitudes or for the know-it-all demeanors of the people on the other end of the phone, so he settled into writing his second book without stopping to consider the benefits the needy, nasally morons could offer him. He had been determined to continue on his own, exactly as he had always been.

Allura had managed to change his mind. Glancing sideways again, he watched as she frowned at her screen, picking her phone up from its place on her lap with her eyes flicking between the devices. He supposed she was working on schedules or promotions, but he was happy to let her continue to handle that part of their business without his input. She always knew exactly what he wanted anyway and he was grateful that he never felt the need to intervene in her plans for his life.

It hadn’t been the easiest relationship to start. Smirking, Keith remembered the day she showed up on his doorstep, blatant disdain for his shabby shack written across her dust streaked face. No one who ventured into the desert could avoid a relationship with the dust and Keith bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the memory of Allura’s defiant stance despite the wind and dirt whipping through her long hair. She had demanded that he speak to her about “properly publishing his book” and he had refused without even opening his front door. A week later, when she had appeared on his porch every single day with the same level-headed opinion, Keith had finally cracked and let her in.

The rest was history, he supposed, and now he sat in the first-class seat headed for another destination in his fifth book tour. Allura had booked his first tour, after securing a contract with a publishing firm for his second book that had enough zeros to make his eyes bug out of his head. Keith never really needed many material things and most of the money had been tucked into the bank, but Allura’s belief in his inherent value still staggered him. She told him he was worth it, even when he argued that he wasn’t, and merely lifted his pen-holding hand and placed it over the dotted line. There had only ever been one other person who had believed in Keith so intrinsically but thinking of _him_ made Keith’s heart hurt and his wall of writer’s block gain another inch in height.

Pushing the painful memories into the mental heaps of discarded descriptions and failed plot lines, he attempted to focus on the future, on the friends he had now and not the one he had let slip away.

Coran was odd at worst and caring at his best and always seemed to have Keith’s best interests in mind. Allura was insistent that Keith have a stylist, as she had deemed most of his earlier fashion statements to be outright attacks on the eyes on his fans. Coran had come storming into Keith’s life with a whirlwind of color and instead of making Keith into someone he wasn’t, Coran taught Keith how to embrace all of the edgy, loner aspects of his personality and make them work as Keith’s own personal brand. He was crazy, but as Keith eyed the fluttering hairs of Coran’s mustache, he couldn’t help feeling the deep-rooted gratitude for the man’s stubbornness and willingness to care for Keith, even when Keith was being purposefully difficult. Coran wanted Keith to be the best, but he also wanted Keith to believe he already was.

Allura had the same determination to constantly push Keith to want more. It had been Allura who had procured the opportunity for all of his subsequent books to release to an insane level of fanfare and for the first movie in the series to become a reality. She had confirmed that Keith would have ultimate veto in casting and rewrites of the screenplay, cementing her place as the protector of Keith’s creative vision. She was as pretty as a desert flower, but underneath she was all cunning steel and Keith appreciated every second of her existence in his life.

Except, possibly, when she was hounding him about the production of book number seven.

Like everyone else, Allura and Coran wanted to know how the story would end and if the heroes would ever find the love they deserved. Keith had carefully kept his readers on the edge of hoping for more romance and terrified that romance would only lead to heartache. He enjoyed the teeter totter that he had let them balance on for six books and wasn’t sure he was ready to let the decision fall in one direction or the other. He was also absolutely too chicken-shit scared to admit that his heart was the part making the decision, not his brain.

He knew how the story ended in real life. One hero staying behind, left to wonder if he had only dared to speak his truth would the other have stayed. The other hero who was stronger, wiser, and older, dared to follow his dreams, naïve to what he was leaving behind due to the other’s sacrifice. They weren’t destined to be together, no matter how much Keith wanted that to be untrue.

His work was that of fiction though, so Keith hadn’t stopped himself from wondering if this was his way to heal. If he gave his heroes the happy ending that he surrendered, would it be unfair to the spirit of the story or would it be a way for Keith’s heart to finally stitch itself back together after years of drifting in torn pieces within his chest.

Again, he found himself without an answer to any of his own questions, his eyes squeezing shut as the thoughts began to bang against his head. The decision had to be made and the story had to end, if only Keith was brave enough to let it happen.

As the plane touched down and Keith followed the other weary passengers from the confined internal quarters, he pushed the thoughts of his open-ended life and painfully cliff-hangered story to the back of his mind, content to let them sprawl among the other mounds of mental waste which accumulated there.

The thirteenth city out of thirty. Maybe here Keith would find inspiration. Maybe in the midst of the busy streets of Boston, Keith would finally find the strength to make his decision.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be this time that Keith would finally be able to let go.

* * *

 

“I have intel.”

A familiar store mailer slapped down in between Shiro’s bent elbows, the breeze it created causing the hair at the top of his head to flutter. Cautiously, Shiro sat down his coffee cup, sparing only the smallest of looks for his roommate and friend. Flicking the paper open, Shiro felt his eyes go wide as he attempted to school the rest of his expression into something appearing like disinterest. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” His acting was abysmal, his voice pitching an octave higher as soon as he read the headline.

“Yeah, ok, if you don’t see the big ad saying that none other than your _lover boy_ will be appearing at _my sister’s_ book store, then I really don’t know how to help you, you troll.” Picking the paper up again, Matt swatted the back of Shiro’s head. “Here,” he proclaimed, whacking Shiro several times in rapid succession, “maybe I can smack the stupid out of you.”

Dodging Matt’s swinging paper, Shiro reached up and grabbed his friend’s folded weapon, dropping it on the dining room table. A gorgeous picture of Keith caught Shiro’s eye and he stopped moving, halting his movements suddenly enough to leave Matt snickering. Ignoring whatever comments were flying from his friend’s sarcastic mouth, Shiro pulled the paper closer, his heart tripping over itself as he took in all the details of Keith’s shy smile.

He remembered this smile, as clearly as he remembered all the other smiles that Keith had hidden from everyone but Shiro. He could still recall the sound of Keith’s laugh and the way his quick wit could pierce holes in the toughest of bullies. Letting a finger trail over the line of Keith’s shoulder, Shiro admired the way that Keith seemed to have grown into his own. Even in two-dimensional form, Keith sparkled and Shiro felt the weight of his regret lumping together with the heavy implication of Matt’s current line of speech.

“He does this thing where he visits smaller bookstores before and after his big readings in each city.” Pausing, Matt rolled his eyes at Shiro’s raised eyebrow. “Yeah, okay I know you know that. ANYWAY… I emailed him months ago about Pidge’s store, but judging by the response I got, he doesn’t answer his own emails. Still, his people or… whatever… agreed to book a signing at her place and because I love you and want you to be indebted to me forever, I got you a ticket.” Matt laid the shiny black and red paper over Shiro’s prosthetic hand before flopping back into his own seat. “You’re number ten in line because my sister probably thinks it’s funny in some way to make you wait. Maybe between now and tomorrow night, you can think of a way to say all the things to him that you normally ramble about only when drunk.”

“I hate you,” Shiro groaned, although he neither meant it nor felt it. He knew that Matt had endured his increasingly circular thoughts about Keith and all the things that Shiro had regrettably left unsaid five years prior. Matt had done so with only a minimal amount of bitching and for that Shiro was grateful. He also accurately aware that this was Matt’s way of pushing him into action and for _that_ he was undecided on his level of gratitude.

Five years was a lot of time. Shiro reached for the ticket that Matt had carefully balanced on his metal knuckles, placing it on the table as he watched his prosthetic hand flex into a nervous fist. He wasn’t the same man who had left Texas, who had walked away from a life he knew to chase a life of collegiate mysteries unknown. Now he sported scars he wouldn’t talk about, an arm that still felt alien at times, and dark memories which fought for real estate against the happier remembrances that Shiro desperately clung to. At one time he had prided himself as being someone people could look up to, but now he was happier when no one looked at him at all.

“I’m not ready,” Shiro said out loud, his chest aching with the weight of so much more than that simple statement.

“You’ll never be _ready_.” Matt spoke bluntly, as he always did, reaching across the table to nudge the paper closer to Shiro. “But aren’t you tired of living with the ghosts of chances you didn’t take?” Patting Shiro on the shoulder, Matt left him to sit alone at the table with his thoughts.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Shiro asked to the empty space around him. Five years ago, Keith had let him walk away. Shiro wanted to remember sadness in Keith’s smile on that day but he could never decide if it was real or if his mind had invented the emotion to mirror Shiro’s own feelings. He had started to cry the minute his dirt bike had taken him out of Keith’s sight, only getting ahold of himself before he parked his cherished ride for a final time outside of his own house. That had been the last time he had seen Keith and Shiro could still recall with perfect clarity the pain he carried in his chest as he settled into the passenger seat next to Adam with Matt chattering away in the backseat.

College had proven to be an adventure Shiro wasn’t expecting and in the aftermath of his break up with Adam, he had made decisions he wasn’t proud of. One of them had led to the massive damage to his own body and the arm that, while no longer foreign, was never going to be an organic part of him. He had wondered if everyone from home would have heard about his accident, if they would have speculated about his broken heart and pondered about all the ways in which Shiro had failed. As an act of self-preservation he had refused to become a part of any social media network and therefore he had no confirmation if anyone even cared.

He often found himself wondering if Keith cared.

In the end he convinced himself that if Keith had known about any of it, his former best friend would have shown up in Boston determined to tear Adam into jerk-sized pieces. It was easier on Shiro’s heart to believe that Keith was as unattached to the world at large as Shiro was, instead of letting the alternative possibility that Keith didn’t care about Shiro’s well-being take up space in his mind. The small, wishful, undying hope in him wanted to believe that Keith would care, that even after Shiro had left to follow his own dreams that Keith would have wanted to know that Shiro was alright.

That tiny piece of hope had only grown larger since the first time Shiro had picked up a copy of K. Kogane’s debut novel.

The book had been a gift from Pidge. Wrapped in the cheerful dressings of Christmas paper, Pidge had presented it to him with a knowing smile, wishing him a merry Christmas before throwing an oversized package into Matt’s lap and making her brother groan with pain. Shiro’s hands had started shaking as soon as he spied the name scrolled in red at the bottom of the cover, his brain stuttering in place like the hands of a broken clock.

He had finished the entire book in a matter of hours, accepting his scolding from Matt’s mom about reading at the dinner table with a sheepish smile while keeping the book tucked in his lap. Every word had spoken directly to his own memories, each painted with the fresh brush strokes of Keith’s point of view. Every chapter had breathed new life into Shiro’s own desires to relive his past.

He was positive, even though he had no right to be, that the main characters Keith was lovingly destroying in each installment of his series were created in the images of the two of them. He had lamented over this fact, to the point of dragging the tolerant Holts into playing his game of guessing what Keith’s intentions were. Every one of his borrowed family members agreed with Shiro’s analysis and had grown increasingly exasperated with Shiro’s unwillingness to do anything about it.

What they couldn’t understand was that Shiro was also positive he was no longer the man Keith was portraying him to be. Keith’s hero was strong, resilient, loving, and supportive of everyone around him. Shiro was broken, a man fated to live with the ragged remains of his own idiotic decisions. He may have a good job and own a house which was big enough for him and Matt to share, but Shiro wasn’t a hero by any means. He wasn’t living up to the fictional character who shared his name and he wasn’t sure he could bear to see Keith’s disappointment in the difference.

“I can hear you thinking from here!” Matt called from kitchen making Shiro grimace. Reappearing as if called as a crusader to combat the deadliest parts of Shiro’s mind, Matt leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m mad that I had to come back in here after that epic one-liner I left on.” Cocking an eyebrow at Shiro’s snort, Matt shook his head. “Let’s make a deal.”

Not looking up, Shiro nodded his head. His heart fluttered at the words, remembering how liberally they had used the challenge as teenagers and how often Shiro had made the same offer to the very man who was standing at the front and center of his mind. Keith didn’t socialize, Shiro didn’t take chances, but somehow they had used their game to force each other out of their comfort zones. Now Matt was dragging the words directly from their past to challenge Shiro to face all the things that he hadn’t managed to leave there.

“I’ll go with you. If you see his face and your heart doesn’t immediately start doing somersaults in your chest, we’ll leave.”

Matt’s eyes were narrowed when Shiro managed to look up at him. Opening his mouth, Shiro’s protest was interrupted when Matt held up a hand.

“When you see his face, and your knees go weak and I have to keep your big ass from melting into a pile of goo on the ground, you’ll stand in line. You’ll ask for an autograph and you will ask him to get a drink with you afterwards.” Matt’s voice was stern, even with the hint of teasing in his statement. His hand appeared in front of Shiro’s face, fingers wiggling in time with his eyebrows. “Deal?”

Feeling the familiar thrum of challenge vibrating through him, Shiro swallowed and lifted his own hand. Gripping Matt’s hand in a slightly harder than necessary shake, Shiro said the only word he could get passed the anxious lump in his throat.

“Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to fate to knock you on your ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has taken a chance on this story so far! 
> 
> If you want to scream about Sheith with me, please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!!   
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)
> 
>  
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) who makes sure no one is made of steal ;)

Keith stood in front of the small privately-owned bookstore unable to help the smile sneaking across his face at the eclectic nature of the front windows. In one window there was a large poster of his own book cover, the image annoyingly recognizable from every other bookstore that had hosted him over the past few weeks. Redeeming the store’s image was the number of hand drawn designs tacked up around the poster, each portraying different characters and scenes which Keith had only ever seen through his own imagination. He could pick out the details that weren’t quite right and the ones that were so perfect it was almost spooky. Resisting the temptation to study each work of art proved unsuccessful and Keith found himself intently inspecting each one, alternating between standing on his toes to peer at the highest portraits and squatting on the ground to chuckle at the silliness of the lower drawings.

He had barely managed to peel himself away from the first window, when the second one caught his eye. Here, his books were displayed inside what appeared to be a handmade version of his heroes’ greatest weapons. Placing a gentle hand on the glass, Keith’s jaw dropped in awe of the detail, superimposing the image he always carried in his mind with the colorful monstrous beauty in front of him.

“I made that.”

Turning to look at the speaker, Keith was quizzical of the smallish woman standing in front of him. She looked remarkably familiar and Keith tilted his head trying to connect the choppy haircut and roguishly cocky voice with someone he hadn’t seen in years.

“Hey Keith,” Pidge smirked, taking a step forward and shoving his shoulder.

As soon as her hand connected, Keith knew his assumption was right. “Pidge!” he exclaimed, ruffling a hand through the now-short brown hair. The girl he remembered wore her hair in a long, messy ponytail and had a bad habit of spying on everything her older brother did. The wave of memories flooded Keith’s mind and he dropped his hand as a ball of lead landed in his stomach.

“You know her?” Allura inquired, tipping her sunglasses up to rest in her hair. “Wait, I thought your name was Katie?” Her facial expression was curious with a hint of caution. Keith watched as Pidge and Allura sized each other up, wondering for a moment if it was a weird girl thing. Looking to Coran for help, Keith only received a shrug in response.

“I grew up in the same town that Keith did. Katie is my real name, Pidge is my preferred name,” Pidge supplied, grabbing the handle to the glass door leading into the shop. “This is my place.” With a flourish, Pidge stepped inside and flung an arm toward the mismatched chairs and staggered bookshelves. Every inch of the place screamed _nerd_ and Keith fell instantly in love with the chaotic glory contained within the brightly painted walls.

“All yours?” Keith asked, not sure what he really meant by his question and hoping that Pidge wouldn’t take his inquiry as an insult. Hesitantly, he looked in her direction, discovering her beaming with pride.

“Yeah, all mine. Dad and Matt helped build the shelves and mom obviously picked at least half of the furniture, but the space is mine, the inventory is mine, and the algorithm which evaluates the rarity and value of each book… that’s definitely mine. Patent pending.” Pidge pushed her glasses up on her nose, smile still bright as Coran and Allura gawked in her direction.

“Pidge here is a certified genius,” Keith couldn’t help laughing at the stunned expressions of his team. Everyone had always underestimated Pidge’s abilities and she always managed to shock them into admitting their mistakes. Whether it was her natural ability to kick everyone’s ass in video games or insane ability to recall Pi to over fifty digits, Pidge had always been full of surprises and Keith was happy to discover she hadn’t lost her touch.

In the midst of his elated pleasure of the unexpected reunion, there was a nagging voice begging him to ask her about a certain mutual friend. The name was on the tip of his tongue, the desire to know warring against his own need to remain in denial. If Shiro had wanted Keith to stay in his life, then Shiro would have given him a way to do so and with that thought, Keith clamped down on his own inquisitive thoughts. He let the conversation roll away from his past connection with his host, listening as Allura and Pidge worked through the logistics of the autograph line and how much time Keith would have for each guest. His mind couldn’t stay in the game though and his feet unconsciously decided to carry him away from the discussion of organization and timing.

Ducking down the first aisle, he let his fingers trail over the books, admiring the store’s mix of new publications and well-loved old classics. He knew from Allura’s brief description of the location that the store participated in buying and selling both new and used books, and Keith had loved the idea of supporting such a worthy endeavor. Of all the appearances he was scheduled to make, this one had excited him the most and now the traitorous part of his mind was telling him that it was fate that had brought him here. Rolling his eyes at his own romanticized stupidity, Keith squatted down to pull one of his own books from the shelf.

Slipping a pen from the pocket of his jacket, Keith cracked open the cover of the book and quickly scrawled a surprise message for whoever was lucky enough to retrieve the book from the shelf. It was a tradition for Keith to leave such a surprise behind in each of the small stores he visited, and his Instagram notifications were filled with people tagging him in his own pompously poetic scrawl.

_Leave it to fate to knock you on your ass._

Scowling at his own words, Keith scoffed. That wasn’t what he had intended to write this time and he stared at his own hand as if it had committed treason against him. Unable to decide if he should be scared of his own unconscious decisions, Keith replaced the pen in his pocket and opted for his cell phone instead.

At some point the purchaser of the book would most likely tag one of his social media accounts in the signature, but his mind wouldn’t let him put the book down until he had documented it himself. Snapping the picture, Keith remained on his knees in the middle of the aisle, mind and eyes unfocused as he continued to stare at the words he hadn’t meant to write.

“Keith?” Allura’s voice floated over the bookshelves, pulling him from his stupor. She popped up at the end of the shelf, brows knitting together in concern as she eyed him at his place on the ground. “Coran wants to wrestle you into something more suitable. Are you ready?” Unaware of the weight in her own question, Allura looked at him expectantly, rocking back on her heels while waiting for Keith’s response.

Putting the book in his lap back into its home on the shelf, Keith brushed off his jeans as he stood and nodded in Allura’s direction. Despite his willingness to put one foot in front of the other, he couldn’t shake the lingering sensation that something was about to happen. Every part of him was alive with anticipatory energy and he could feel his breathing shortening with every step he took.

Whatever was coming, Keith was positive he was not ready.

* * *

 

Pidge’s store had always been on the short list of places where Shiro felt completely comfortable, especially after his accident. The color scheme and ridiculously uncoordinated furniture reminded him distinctly of the Holts’ childhood home back in Texas, bringing him a sense of nostalgia every time he set foot inside of the small store. Pidge was a constant fixture inside of her own business, her passion for books and the preservation of what she deemed “the art of reading” made every day of work something she looked forward to, instead of dreading like most of the population.

Her vast section of science and space books, decorated with star charts, hanging plastic planets, and novelty periodic tables spoke to Shiro’s geeky soul and she never made fun of him for purchasing old textbooks or multiple brand-new copies of all of Keith’s books. In fact, she had begun to sneak Shiro his copies early, daring to challenge the rules about midnight releases by delivering Shiro’s books to him as soon as the boxes had been deposited onto the storeroom floor. In turn, Shiro brought her coffee from her favorite coffee shop every morning on his way past her storefront toward his office.

It was a little family they had formed in their home away from home. When Shiro had bought his house, he had offered a room to Pidge along with Matt, but she had declined, opting to live above her store in her never-ending quest to make the rest of them look lazy about their own career pursuits. On days when she didn’t show up for dinner, one of them would run a Tupperware container to the store, often standing over Pidge and her complicated computer setup until she huffed her frustration at being watched and finally began to eat. They looked after each other, and even though Shiro spent most days feeling like there was something missing in his life, he knew he was lucky to have everything he had.

Walking down the sidewalk with Matt at his side, Shiro tried to pretend it was any other Thursday night. Maybe they were swinging by to see if Pidge wanted to catch a movie or just stopping in to browse during the slowest night of the week. There was definitely no reason for Shiro’s heart to be beating bruises into his rib cage or for his palms to be sweating to the point of leaving damp marks against the inside of his pockets.

He was almost successful in his denial, his mind going blissfully blank as he convinced himself that absolutely nothing of importance was about to happen. Then he ran straight into the back of an excited teenage girl and his gaze fell on the crowd gathered outside of the store. He made a quick apology to the startled fan he had almost trampled and elbowed Matt in the stomach for laughing at him.

“Looks like you aren’t in the minority after all,” Matt commented, raising his chin to look over the heads of all the people crowding toward the door. “Apparently Kogane’s fans come in all shapes… and… ages?” Barely containing a snort, Matt nodded in the direction of a woman with curly gray hair who was easily as old as Shiro’s grandmother.

At a loss of words, Shiro could only stare wide-eyed at the crowd, wondering exactly how this mass of chaos was going to fit into the tiny store. “Maybe we should-” his thought was cut off by a brisk clap and an even brisker voice.

“Alright everyone! Quiet down!” The woman at the front of the store stood more than a foot taller than Pidge, who was bouncing excitedly next to her and waving in the direction of Shiro and Matt. Shiro glanced at Matt when he heard his friend give a low whistle, but didn’t have the time to inquire as to what he was thinking. “You all have numbers stamped on your tickets. This is a limited, private event and all proceeds will go to the charity of Ms. Holt’s choosing.” Shiro smiled at Matt when he snorted “Ms. Holt” under his breathe. “Now if you don’t have a prepaid ticket, you may wait outside and if time permits, K will take some additional guests. The more the rest of you cooperate, the more people we can fit into our timeframe. Do I make myself clear?”

“She’s terrifying,” Shiro whispered to Matt. He didn’t mean terrifying like a horror movie monster, but the confidence and directness seemed naturally ingrained in everything the woman was doing and Shiro was thoroughly impressed while also wanting to blindly obey every order. Laughing as Matt muttered a comment about her terrifying beauty, Shiro let himself be pushed forward to his place in line. Panic set in as Matt began to duck away and Shiro reached out a hand to grab his friend’s arm.

“I told Pidge I would help with crowd control.” Matt shrugged out of Shiro’s grasp. Tapping the book in Shiro’s hand, Matt leaned closer to his ear. “Get an autograph. Get a date. Get laid. In that order.” He pulled back to laugh at Shiro’s reddened cheeks, spinning on his heel where Pidge called his name above the crowd.

“What about our deal?” Shiro called after him, smiling in his own embarrassment as the people around him in line gave him puzzled looks. Resigning himself to the fate that had been thrust upon him, Shiro clutched his copy of Keith’s sixth book to his chest and willed himself to calm the hell down.

* * *

 

Keith had purposefully avoided the front of the store when Coran had finally deemed him appropriate for fan interaction. His standard outfits were never more than solid colored t-shirts (by designers with fancy names that Keith didn’t care about) and tastefully ripped jeans that Coran purchased with the tears already strategically placed. It would never make sense to him that his own snarky saying t-shirts and rightfully ripped jeans weren’t good enough, but Coran swore by the simple image he had crafted for Keith and Keith never really cared enough to argue.

The chair Pidge had plunked him in before rushing after Allura looked like a mock pilot’s seat, mostly black with red trim. He was positive that the choice was conscious, but he didn’t have a chance to question her about it before she was skipping away in excited hops. Per his normal requests, there were bottles of water and black pens sitting on the table top in front of him and with nervous fingers, Keith begin to line the pens up in precise order. Next he lined the water bottles up, smiling at the V he had created with the objects available to him.

Allura’s voice carried from wherever she was standing and Keith couldn’t help grinning up at Coran when he barked out a laugh. Coran had known Allura since she was a child, his very first job being as a stylist to her father who had been some sort of diplomat. When Allura’s parents had passed away, it had been Coran who had taken her in and he always seemed highly amused whenever she used her no-nonsense business voice to scare the life out of nerds and fangirls. Keith chuckled when he heard Coran start muttering about little girls growing up so fast, appreciative of the distraction from the noise of the crowd.

Keith’s reputation proceeded him when it came it his fans. Although he refused to ever look at the tweets and blogs himself, he had endured more than one night of Allura and Coran drunkenly reciting some of the more outlandish praise of Keith’s personality. Even though the flowery words had embarrassed him, Keith had understood more in those nights than in all the lectures Allura had given him about how much kindness could affect those who crossed in front of his table. Another wise person in his life had also given him lectures about patience and kindness, and Keith forced himself to concentrate on checking the ink of each pen to prevent the thoughts of Shiro flooding his mind.

Seeing Pidge had brought back an avalanche of emotions that Keith had been funneling directly into his books for years. Now the emotions which generally fueled his writing were swirling under his skin, making him feel fidgety, like there was too much to contain inside his own inadequate body.

Ideally he would have taken this revved up state of being and beaten the stuffing out of a hanging gym bag. There hadn’t been time between Pidge’s surprise appearance and his own required appearance to work any of it out of his system. He felt like a live wire, electric and ready to burst into flames at any minute. Gritting his teeth, Keith fought to control the sensation, reverting back to Shiro’s old motto and letting the words comfort him even as thoughts of the man made his heart beat in an uneven cadence.

“We’re starting,” Coran whispered, pinching Keith’s cheek in a fatherly gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m going to go sink down in that funky little armchair. Don’t get pen marks on that shirt.” Sheepish due to his tendency to do just that, Keith gave Coran a small nod and set his sights on the first nervously approaching fan.

Taking a deep breath, Keith put on his best half-smile and held a hand out to retrieve the offered copy of his book. This he knew how to do, this process he understood, and as long as he followed all of Allura’s suggestions about concentrating on the person in front of him and not looking at the line, he knew he would survive, even if the eager beast living inside of him was determined to convince him otherwise.

Clearing his throat, Keith pushed away all of his racing thoughts and smiled up at the girl in front of him who was stuttering her name while blushing wildly. _Patience yields focus_ , he repeated to himself, encouraging her to take a breath and flipping open the cover of her book to jot down a quick message. The words had been Shiro’s and even when they didn’t fit perfectly, Keith still took comfort in the advice.

As he posed for a selfie with his first eager fan, Keith could feel himself settling. _He could do this_ , he told himself, never looking up and completely unaware of Matt’s excited face peering in his direction and Pidge’s equally excited glances being aimed just beyond the front door. It was an ordinary signing on an ordinary day, and it would be over before he knew it.

Smiling at the second fan to approach him, Keith remained blissfully oblivious of how wrong he was.

* * *

 

By nature, Shiro wasn’t a big user of curse words. There were occasions when the harsh words seemed appropriate, such as when he had dropped an entire crock pot of spaghetti sauce over his entire kitchen floor or when Matt had accidentally flooded the first floor of the house with washing machine bubbles, but generally speaking Shiro believed that there were better ways to express emotions.

Until the exact moment that he stepped through the front doors of Pidge’s bookstore and laid eyes on the man who he had been pining for over the last five years.

The stream of curse words exploded in his mind as he took in the width of Keith’s shoulders, the curl of Keith’s dark hair, and the easy way Keith was smiling and interacting with the excited group in front of him. He was ignorant to the fact that his jaw had dropped open, his eyes watching Keith lean forward over the table to pose for a picture and gasping slightly at the tightening of Keith’s shirt over a chest obviously chiseled by the hands of God.

The press of a finger under his chin had Shiro blushing and he avoided looking at Matt as his friend clicked his tongue in smug acknowledgement of Shiro’s immediate closure of the second part of their deal. There was no way he was going to convince Matt that his heart hadn’t immediately sailed across the room to land in the lap of his former best friend, and Shiro didn’t even have the mental capacity to try. Keith’s incredible attractiveness had wiped his brain clean of all coherent thoughts and Shiro could do nothing but stumble forward, praying he could figure out how to speak before the gaggle of teenagers in front of him cleared out.

“Hey Coran,” Keith twisted in his seat to grab Coran’s attention with a wave of his hand. The girls in front of him had split the cost of one ticket to the meet-and-greet and Keith felt guilty that Allura had only allowed them the same time as a singular person. Determined to make it up to them, Keith waited until Coran was closer before asking, “Do we still have those bookmarks from the last book release? I know we had a few left in one of the bags.” He looked down as Coran stooped under the table next to him, smiling when Coran triumphantly waved the stack above his head. “Awesome, would you mind giving each of them one? And maybe if there are people outside who didn’t get tickets, they could have one too if we have enough.” He smiled at the excited gasps from the group now positioned to his right and began to turn himself back toward his next visitor. His eyes widened at the hand placing the book in front of him and his heart immediately slammed upward, knocking against the back of his throat as his eyes trailed up the extended arm and landed on a face he never expected to see again.

A shiver of excitement, and something much more intimate, ran up Shiro’s spine as Keith’s eyes traveled slowly up to meet his own. With blood pounding in his ears and his cheeks glowing a deep red, Shiro spoke, unsure of the words that were going to tumble out of his mouth. “I was hoping you could make this out to Takashi. You know… the real one…” Snapping his mouth shut, Shiro felt his stomach churn as he processed his own request a second too late to pull it back.

The bottom fell out of Keith’s stomach, his hand moving to cover Shiro’s and unable to discern which one of them was shaking. “Takashi,” Keith whispered, repeating the name Shiro had used and that Keith had written an alarming amount of times over six novels. In a softer, more private tone, Keith heard himself say, “Shiro,” a little more breathless than he intended to be.

A hush fell over the bookstore as everyone watched them, the silence interrupted only by the tiny squeaks of Keith’s fans as they started to piece together what they were seeing.

“Keith,” Shiro said, barely finding his voice and unwilling to remove his hand from where his index finger had involuntarily begun to skim Keith’s palm where it covered Shiro’s hand. “Will you sign my book?”

Neither of them paid attention to the meltdown occurring around them as every fan still lingering in the bookstore heard Keith’s full first name confirmed for the first time. A name featured alongside a hero named Takashi, and given to the fictional man who fought every battle in the name of unrequited love. Forcing himself to look down, Keith crowded Shiro’s book closer to his chest and scribbled quickly inside of the cover.

Closing Shiro’s book, Keith gingerly lifted it to place it in Shiro’s hands. “Wait for me until after all of this?” He smiled hopefully at Shiro, his stomach twisting in terrified knots and his heart begging him to fight for this moment.

“For as long as it takes,” Shiro responded, feeling the threat of tears on his eyelashes when Keith graced him with his full smile. Giving Keith one more nod, Shiro pulled himself away, content to locate Matt and anxiously await the end of the event.

Once he was out of Keith’s sight, Shiro could no longer resist the urge to open his book. Counting backwards from five, and feeling Pidge and Matt push in on either side of him, Shiro slowly flipped open the front cover.

_Nothing can ever compare to the original. Thank you for the inspiration. Love, Keith_

Crushed by the exuberant hugs of both Holt siblings, Shiro choked back an emotional sob. Every minute of the last five years felt worth it as he reread Keith’s words, his heart swelling to fill every inch of his chest as his mind exploded with hope for possibilities. He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive the next four hours with Keith so close and unable to tell him all the thoughts racing in Shiro’s mind, but he told himself that he had gotten this far and he wouldn’t give up now.

Peeking back around the bookshelf, Shiro found Keith looking in his direction and blushed when Keith smiled at him. Smiling back, Shiro decided that if five years hadn’t killed him then he could survive another four hours. And after that he wasn’t going to waste another moment on hesitation.

He was going to tell Keith that he loved him. And he was going to do it, tonight.

Gripping his book tighter, Shiro let himself be pulled into a chair by a smug-looking Matt, absolutely uncaring that he really was going to be indebted to his roommate for the rest of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get a drink boys, you're both thirsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiming for updates on Sundays and Wednesdays (so 2 a week) until this is completed :) 
> 
> The italics in this chapter are when Keith is reading from his book, in case it is unclear :)
> 
> This chapter is a little late in the day because my awesome beta is super sick so I did this one on my own (please forgive any errors!!)
> 
> Thank you everyone who has supported this story!! You can check out the AMAZING banner art created by [ by following ](https://magical-mistral.tumblr.com</a)[this link](https://n3rdlif343va.tumblr.com/post/176825526361/n3rdlif343va-unwritten-on-ao3-rated-m) and see the amazing fanart also by Mistral by following [this link](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva/status/1027886229537337344)
> 
> As always, come find me on Tumblr or Twitter if you want to chat Voltron or send me a prompt!!!   
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

Book signings were always a test of Keith’s patience. During the large signing events, Allura always forced him to read a portion of his book out loud to feed into the continuous hysteria of his fan base. This happened before the long line of signatures and awkward selfies which tended to last hours beyond the limits of Keith’s sanity. He understood the necessity of these meet-and-greets and had learned over the years how to perform as an ambassador for his own work, but they would never rank at the top of his favorite activities.

Normally, he much preferred the smaller events and actually found ways to enjoy himself while supporting the individual bookstores that Allura tracked down in each location they visited. Sometimes he read a passage, sometimes he would sit with his readers and listen to their ideas or answer their questions. His urge to run for solitude was less during these events, and Keith usually made it through them without a remarkable amount of stress.

The last three hours of Keith’s life had directly challenged every part of these smaller events that Keith loved. All of the people attending the event remained in the store, even after their books were signed and their selfies were snapped. While that wasn’t completely unexpected, Keith secretly wished that they would all get bored and leave so he could focus solely on Shiro. His ability to concentrate on anything beyond the memory of the way Shiro’s hand had felt under his and the way Shiro had said his name was nonexistent, and more than once Coran had to elbow him out of his Shiro trance. Underneath the table, Keith’s knees bounced in uncharacteristic exuberance. Shiro’s presence was palpable and Keith wondered if he would go slowly insane until he was able to be near him again.

There was an energy in the air that Keith couldn’t describe, but it felt like it was creeping under his skin and bleeding into his thoughts. All around him, eyes were watching, flicking between him and Shiro as they continued to share nervous smiles through all the hours of the event. Keith couldn’t stop himself from seeking Shiro in the crowd, his vision like a tunnel, blurring out everyone except for the man who was unknowingly holding Keith’s heart in his mismatched hands. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many years to make up for, and Keith could feel the suffocating power of those emotions growing inside of him.

“I think you should read,” Allura spoke making Keith jump; he had no idea when she came to be by his side.

Looking behind her, Keith raised an eyebrow at the vacant armchair and Coran’s retreating back. “Where is he going?” A flutter rippled in his stomach when his eyes caught Shiro again, his smile becoming lopsided discovering Shiro already looking at him. He felt giddy in a way he couldn’t remember ever being and he completely missed whatever Allura’s answer was. Rolling his eyes when she cleared her throat, Keith peered up at her through the curtain of his bangs. “Sorry, come again?”

Her expression was unreadable as Allura crossed her arms over her chest. “Coran is running an errand. And you are going to read. Here,” shoving a book into Keith’s hands, Allura tapped a finger to the marked page. “Read this.”

Her smirk was conspiratorial and Keith was almost afraid to look down to see exactly where she was pointing. Relinquishing his resistance, he dropped his eyes to skim the page. “Wow, no, Allura… I can’t-”

“Alright everyone!” Allura yelled over Keith’s objections, ignoring him and leaving him a dangerously dark shade of red as she called the fans to attention. “If you would all like to find a seat somewhere, K would like to read you a passage from his latest book. We won’t have time for questions today and we would ask that as soon as the reading is over, you make your way out of the store. Thank you everyone for your support of Voltron and of our dear author.”

Allura’s hand on Keith’s shoulder squeezed harder than Keith deemed necessary and he tried not to wince when her fingers gave a final dig. Stealing himself for the emotional onslaught which would inevitably come with this particular set of paragraphs, Keith quietly watched people tuck themselves into chairs and into groups on the floor. Across the room, Shiro leaned on the edge of a bookshelf, arms folded in front of him and book braced against his chest. He was unfairly handsome and Keith only realized he was staring when Allura whispered, “read Keith.”

Blushing furiously, Keith tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Shifting in his seat, Keith took a deep breath and addressed the crowd in front of him. “Hi everyone. I’m not very good with this whole reading out loud thing, no matter how many times Allura makes me practice in front of a mirror,” he paused to let the laughter pass, glancing toward Shiro in hopes that he had made him laugh as well. He saw the exchange of playful elbows between Shiro and Matt and a jealous part of him flared deep in his gut. Trying to convince his ridiculously negative brain to calm down, Keith ran a hand through his hair and rested the open book in his lap.

“I’m going to read a passage from the final chapter,” eyes roaming over the page, Keith trailed off remembering how difficult this scene had been to write. It had taken him three days, half a bottle of whiskey, and an entire box of tissues to get through it. Every word was emotional and that was before the man he was writing about was standing in the same room as him.

Unthinking, Keith continued to talk. “This was a really hard chapter for me to write,” speaking as if it was an unconscious action, Keith continued without looking up. “Here we have two people who love each other more than anything or anyone else in the world, but they are always finding a reason not to say it. Keith thinks that his love would tie Takashi down, that somehow loving Keith would be an anchor instead of wings.” His eyes remained trained on the book in front of him, not sparring a single glance for the room around him. “Takashi, well, Takashi thinks the world is bigger than two people and no matter how much he loves Keith, there is always something he deems more important than his own wants and desires.” Choking up, Keith paused, scanning the page again to decide where to start his reading.

Shiro listened as Keith spoke, the words winding around his heart and growing roots in his mind. He wanted to know if this is how Keith really believed Shiro felt. He wanted to sprint across the store and throw his arms around Keith so he could hold Keith while he told him all the ways in which Keith was wrong. Shiro had made some selfish decisions when it had come to Keith, but he had believed his intentions were honorable and he was desperate to explain himself. In his mind he started to rehearse all the things he would say to Keith as soon as they were alone, the speech growing quickly until Keith began to read.

_“The world around them was dark, highlighted by flashes of light which only succeeded in showing the direction that their death was coming from. Vibrations shook the ground beneath their feet, and as the last platform of the space station began to shatter, Keith reached out to seize Takashi by the hand.”_

Shiro was lost in the sound of Keith’s voice, his eyes tracking every flex of Keith’s lips as he read the chapter that had left Shiro a sobbing mess in his own bed when he had first read these exact words.

_“Let me go,’ Takashi begged Keith, tears streaming down his face as Keith’s knife slipped further down the wall. ‘If you let me fall, you can save yourself. The team needs you, Keith, it was always you they needed. Just let me go.”_

Keith had to stop reading, steadying himself by pressing the palm of his hand against the sharp point of his knee. Willing himself to go on, Keith bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself with a flash of pain.

_“I won’t,’ Keith growled, his teeth gritting so hard it made his jaw ache. ‘Stop acting like you don’t matter. You matter to me. You’re everything, Takashi. I’m not letting go.’ The deafening sound of splitting metal screeched above them, pieces falling like shooting stars with tails of fire burning in their wakes. Tightening his grip on Takashi’s hand, Keith felt unconsciousness slipping over him and he fought against the menacing fog settling over his own mind. Below him, Takashi’s eyes fluttered closed, his body going limp as a single tear slid down Keith’s cheek.”_

Cupping a hand over his own mouth, Shiro felt the tears threatening his eyes and his throat constricting. Throughout the store other people were stifling their own reactions, wiping tears from the cheeks of friends and ducking their heads to hide their own embarrassment. Shiro had read this book (and all the others) so many times, he had the words memorized, but hearing them in Keith’s voice made every word feel like a stab to his heart.

_“I love you,’ Keith whispered, his own eyes finally closing as the last word hung between them. Lifeless, they remained connected as they began to fall.”_

“Worst cliffhanger ever!” A voice shouted from the crowd breaking the tension in the room with laughter.

Keith carefully closed the book in his lap and forcefully smiled at all the readers looking expectantly up at him. His throat felt tight and he could feel the threat of his own tears, remembering that when he had written this part it had been his intention to kill both of them. Their death would have alleviated him from making a decision about their future, and probably made him the biggest coward in the world. Lost in his own thoughts and not knowing what to say next, he turned to Allura for assistance. He refused to look in Shiro’s direction, knowing that the emotions currently storming inside of him would not withstand even a simple glance Shiro’s way.

“Thank you all for coming this evening,” Allura hooked a hand under Keith’s armpit and pulled him to his feet. “We appreciate every single one of you and we hope that you will enjoy the last two installments of K’s series. Please don’t forget to tag the official accounts in your photos and to watch those accounts for updates on the release of book seven.” Leaning toward Keith’s shoulder, Allura whispered, “Thank them for being here and then head toward the room you changed in earlier.”

Reacting on autopilot, Keith shook Allura from his arm and addressed the crowd. “Yes, thank you for being here. If any of you are attending Saturday’s event, I look forward to seeing you again. I hope you will like what I have in store for the last two books.”

“BUT ARE THEY DEAD?!” yelled a distressed voice, the source unidentifiable as people began to stand from their places.

Looking down at his feet, Keith only shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.” He chuckled at the groans which echoed around him, feeling Allura tug on his elbow to encourage him to walk away. Although it had literally never been a problem, Keith assumed that Allura remained worried that he would accidentally spoil a key detail of the unpublished books. Not that there was anything to spoil considering Keith hadn’t written more than a few hundred words of useless drivel. Giving in to her prodding, Keith stepped behind Allura, turning on his heel to head toward Shiro instead of the room Allura had directed him to.

“Not yet, Romeooooo!” Coran sang, reappearing out of thin air and grabbing Keith by the collar of his shirt to yank him backwards. Stumbling, Keith tried to protest, his arms flailing as Coran continued to drag him. Panicked, he watched Allura stride toward Shiro, the sight of Matt flinging an arm over Shiro’s shoulders the last thing he saw before Coran slammed the door shut to the small storage area.

“What is the big idea?” Keith stamped his foot, knowing that he was behaving like a tantruming toddler and not caring in the slightest. He wanted to get into Shiro’s space as soon as possible, and did not appreciate being sequestered in a closet with Coran studying him with a judgmental scowl.

“I’ve been informed you have a date.” Coran reached forward and yanked Keith’s t-shirt up, catching it on Keith’s chin and tangling his arms in the fabric. “You are not allowed to wear _this_ on a date.”

“Oh for fuc-” Keith’s jaw clacked shut as Coran tried to wrestle him from the t-shirt. The sound of the door opening had him spinning around, making his wrists twist tighter in the fabric and his neck feel pinched in the collar, his vision obscured by the cotton slowly strangling him.

“Coran,” Allura scolded, reaching around to shove Coran’s hands off of the shirt trapping Keith in place. “I told you to make sure he has his head on right, not to behead him with his own shirt.” Gently she pulled the t-shirt from Keith’s body, flinging it over her own shoulder and reaching for the garment bag hanging against the wall. Addressing Keith over her shoulder, Allura unbuttoned the brand new black button down. “After the social media frenzy you caused today, we need to make sure you are at your most presentable if you are going out on the town.”

“He’s just a friend,” Keith blurted, glaring between Coran and Allura as they stared at him with deadpan uncertainty. He did not let his brain go near Allura’s statements about social media for the sake of his own sanity.

“I know exactly who he is, Keith Kogane,” Allura was still scolding him, sounding more and more like Keith’s mother instead of his agent. “Your friend and her shaggy-haired brother made sure I knew all the details.” She held the shirt out to Keith, her expression softening when he hesitantly took the offered clothing from her grasp. “It sounds like the two of you are in for a long night.”

Keith promptly dropped the shirt on the floor, his ears burning with the implication of Allura’s words. He definitely wasn’t trying to sleep with Shiro, at least not immediately, but he was not going to deny that the thought had crossed his mind. Shiro had been gorgeous when he had left Texas and seemingly had only grown more so over the five years that Keith hadn’t seen him. His best friend was a walking wet dream and Keith had to stop thinking about it before his body betrayed him and forced him to change his pants in enclosed quarters with Coran and Allura while sporting a raging hard-on.

Coran snickered, reaching into the bag to retrieve a pair of pants from the hanger. “Put these on. They aren’t as tight as your normal jeans so they won’t be as hard to get off when the time comes.”

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Keith’s fingers fluttered over his buttons. Training his eyes on the ground, he was determined to ignore them both until they shut up. Without looking up he accepted the jeans being shoved into his hands, his brain not functioning enough to allow him to protest against wearing an outfit the was distinctly not his style. Dropping his current jeans to the ground, Keith kicked them to the side and pulled the new pair up over his hips. On either side of him Allura and Coran were discussing how he should wear his hair and if he needed more cologne.

His brain crackled with white noise, letting their voices fall away from him as he focused on the image of Shiro’s face. It didn’t matter what he was wearing or how he smelled, Keith was going to finally say all the things he had been living with for five years. He assumed Shiro had read what Keith had written in his book, and it hadn’t led to Shiro running screaming from the store. Bolstered on this fact alone, Keith allowed Allura and Coran to manhandle him into the rest of his outfit, while his mind happily drifted to all the possibilities held by the night in front of him.

* * *

 

Shiro wasn’t too proud to admit that his nervous energy was causing him to feel ready to explode. In an attempt to relieve it, he was pacing back and forth over the patch of green carpet which designated the main reading area of the store. He had no idea why Keith’s people had hauled him into a closet as soon as the reading was over, but his mind was trying to spin every negative thought into a web of self-doubt and nervousness. 

“Here we have the wild Shiro,” Matt stalked behind him, his voice imitating the narrators of all the wildlife documentaries he made Shiro watch. “The beast is engaging in a pre-mating ritual, working himself into a sweat so that his pheromones will ensnarl his prey- OMPH!” Flopping dramatically into a chair, Matt flung an arm over his stomach where Shiro had jabbed him.

The sound of Matt’s cackles faded out as Shiro watched Keith stumble from the closet, turning over his shoulder to hiss at the two people he left in there. Watching every movement, Shiro couldn’t help feeling breathless at the sight of Keith who was effortlessly gorgeous in his black shirt and slightly blushed cheeks. Teenage Keith had been more dazzling than any boy Shiro had ever known, but the Keith currently walking toward him was beautiful in an other-worldly way. Every part of Shiro began to react, his mouth trying to move to form some semblance of a greeting, while his hands twitched forward in an awkward desire to touch Keith as soon as he was within reach.

“I- - you - - um,” Shiro reached up to scratch the back of his neck, all words dying on his tongue as Keith stopped in front of him.

“I did not choose this outfit,” Keith stated, shoving his hands in his pockets and glaring slightly as Matt snorted from his seat. “Hey, Holt, long time.” He didn’t make a move to greet Matt in any other way, his feet refusing to move him in any direction that would take him away from Shiro’s side.

“Hey Keith, you got beefy,” Matt went to stand, and was immediately knocked backwards over the arm of his chair by Pidge’s frustrated slap. Keith smirked, turning to smile at Shiro when he did the same.

Looking directly at Shiro was a mistake. Their height difference had been so much different last time they had stood this close and Keith hadn’t registered the change from where he had been sitting. Standing in front of Shiro now, he realized that they were almost eye-to-eye and it did something funny to his heart and his libido. Seeing Shiro run his eyes from Keith’s feet back to meet his gaze didn’t help Keith’s spiraling thoughts either.

“You guys should go get a drink,” Pidge suggested, perching on the arm of a chair and failing to look innocent when they both turned to look at her.

“Yeah you both look thirsty,” Matt added, ducking behind the chair to avoid Pidge’s swinging fist.

“Um… if you want… I know a place with good burgers?” Shiro forced himself to ignore his friends, letting his mind play with all the creative ways he could murder Matt while he watched Keith with hope bouncing in his heart. He felt his face break into a smile when Keith nodded at the suggestion.

“I could definitely eat.” Regrettably Keith glanced down, inadvertently leading his gaze to an inappropriate part of Shiro’s body. Flushing, he dug his hands deeper into his pockets and refused to look anywhere that wasn’t the floor as Pidge and Matt made matching sounds of amusement. If he couldn’t get a handle on himself this night was going to be a disaster. Gritting his teeth together, he made himself look up, heart flipping over in his chest at Shiro’s bright smile.

“I’ll lead the way then,” Shiro waved a hand toward the front door, taking a single step before stopping suddenly causing Keith to crash into his shoulder. Instinctively, he grabbed Keith’s waist to steady him, feeling his mouth go dry at how solid Keith felt under his fingertips.

Keith had always had muscles hidden under his deceivingly scrawny exterior, but it was nothing compared the strength Shiro could feel flexing under his hands now. “ _Wow_ …” he said aloud, blushing when he realized that it was loud enough for everyone in their direct vicinity to hear him.

Clearing his throat, Shiro dropped his hands and waved again at the front door, barely missing the display on the closest counter. “There are a lot of people out there.” He meant to ask Keith if it would bother him to be seen in public together knowing that Keith was decidedly private about his personal life, but he couldn’t seem to form sentences longer than a few words. This would definitely make his attempts to confess to Keith impossible if he couldn’t get a handle on his own brain.

“Is there possibly a back exit?” Allura’s voice was calm and collected. She stepped toward Keith and Shiro while looking back at Pidge. “I believe these two have had enough scrutiny for one day. Shall we find another way to sneak them out?” Small fingers wrapped around Keith’s elbow and he felt himself being yanked around for the second time that evening. Shiro’s shoulder again bumped against Keith as Shiro received the same treatment, both of them letting Allura guide them toward the back of the store on Pidge’s directions.

She shoved them through the blue door, leaning out of the opening to inspect the alley around them. “Good luck you two,” Allura said with a knowing smile, flipping her hair over her shoulder and promptly slamming the door closed in their faces. Keith wanted to hug her and strangle her, in equal levels of desire.

“Shall we?” Shiro asked, offering his hand to Keith and telling himself to stop shaking as Keith intertwined their fingers together. He was not going to internally freak out about how well their hands fit, even after all the years that had been lost and all the growing Keith had decided to do.

“Lead the way,” Keith smiled, his palm tingling where it was pressed against Shiro’s. Their first minutes had been awkwardly pathetic, but Keith willfully hoped that it was only temporary. Feeling their hands slip together, a perfect fit with their fingers lacing comfortably together as if they belonged there, Keith acknowledged the pieces of his heart also sliding back into place. If there was anything he knew for certain, it was that he was being given a second chance and he planned not to waste a moment of it.

Ducking close to the wall, Shiro peeked around the brick to survey the front of the store. Anxiously gauging the people gathered there, his eyebrows shot up when Allura, Coran, Pidge and Matt appeared. “Get your free Voltron bookmarks!” Matt yelled, shooting a wink in Shiro’s direction and then taking a panicked step back when the people swarmed around him.

“Maybe Holt’s not so bad,” Keith remarked, stepping from the alley and tugging Shiro with him. Matt had been the biggest instigator in their friend group growing up and Keith’s brief interaction with him had confirmed that this trait had not been abandoned. It was slightly redeeming that he was part of the foursome currently causing a diversion to let them slip away unnoticed and Keith shot a silent thank you over his shoulder with a wave of his hand.

“No, trust me, he is still the worst,” Shiro laughed when Keith did, settling into a steady rhythm, their shoulders brushing with every step. His ears were burning red and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. Grinning down at Keith, Shiro decided that he didn’t care how many awkward moments they had to contend with, as long as they were doing it together, he knew they could survive it.

Slipping into silence, they exchanged elated smiles and squeezes of their joined hands, heading for a night of burgers and reconnecting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anywhere you want me to be, I'll be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The playlist for this story is now available [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzUS7doGvJeOk4SKBrop8hxo2tShuCSKR)! I'm torn between imagining them dancing to [Next to Me by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-C_rvt0SwLE&t=0s&list=PLzUS7doGvJeOk4SKBrop8hxo2tShuCSKR&index=2) and [I won't give up by Jason Mraz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cNhpIzUreI&index=10&list=PLzUS7doGvJeOk4SKBrop8hxo2tShuCSKR)! I would love to hear your thoughts!!
> 
> Another unbeta'ed chapter! Please forgive all mistakes! 
> 
> Want to talk Sheith or Voltron in general? Please come find me on Twitter or Tumblr!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

The bar wasn’t crowded nor was it well-lit, but Keith found that the atmosphere calmed his nerves. He let Shiro lead him to a table in the back, hidden from view with its high wooden backs and cocooned enough to block out some of the noise from the jukebox. Sliding into one side of the booth, Keith instantly missed the feeling of Shiro’s hand in his own. Trying to tamper his desire to pout, Keith reached for the menu on the table and let his fingers linger for a moment when Shiro’s connected with the lamented paper at the same time. Blushing, Keith let his fingertips brush over Shiro’s knuckles, dropping his hand to the table to rest at the top corner of the menu. His bit his bottom lip to contain his smile when Shiro’s hand covered his own.

“So, uh, what’s good here?” Keith continued to look at the menu. If he took a second to look at Shiro again, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop and he didn’t want to frustrate their waitress by being indecisive upon her arrival at the table.

Shiro hummed in response, not paying attention to the question, his eyes trained on the way his hand could still entirely cover Keith’s smaller hand. Before their walk to the bar, they hadn’t held hands since they were children, climbing rocks and helping each other up the steeper slopes, but Shiro had a deep visceral memory of the feeling of Keith’s hand in his. It felt like a dream that they were here, sitting across from each other without a time limit or someone to police their actions and Shiro wanted to simply exist in this bubble, holding Keith’s hand securely in his own. The sound of Keith speaking again made Shiro look up, blushing when Keith smirked at his blank stare.

“Big guy,” Keith took a chance on the old nickname, brain going off like fireworks at the way Shiro’s face lit up. “I asked what’s good here.” Unable to help himself, Keith shifted his leg under the table to press it firmly against Shiro’s own. He had exactly zero idea what he was doing, but the way the blush spread like wildfire over Shiro’s face told him that the contact wasn’t unwelcome.

“I mean, burgers,” Shiro tried to put a coherent thought together, his mind solely focused on the feeling of all the places where his body was connected with Keith’s. Telling himself to calm down, Shiro reached forward to point at the menu. “Pretty much any burger in this column and any of the house beers. You can’t lose with those.” Proud of himself for all the words he had accomplished, Shiro sat back against his seat and scanned his menu with a triumphant smile.

All of his cockiness evaporated when the waitress arrived and Keith twisted to face her while ordering, his knee sliding up the inside of Shiro’s thigh and resting just shy of the apex of Shiro’s legs. His mind became nothing but clanking sounds and explicit thoughts as he deafly stared down at his own menu. Keith’s leg bounced slightly in its place against Shiro’s thigh, and Shiro was positive that the circuit breaker had tripped in his brain. He ordered, completely unaware of what he had chosen, all of his thoughts funneled directly to where Keith’s leg was still moving nervously against his own.

Butterflies danced in Keith’s stomach as he listened to Shiro stutter his way through his order, experimentally jostling his knee to watch Shiro’s reaction. His own body was tingling from the touch of Shiro’s flexing leg muscles and his heart was beating double-time at the way Shiro seemed to be reacting to Keith’s intentional flirtations. Although he felt his own hesitations whirling in his stomach, Keith shifted his other foot forward, letting his leg brush against Shiro’s ankle.

“So, um,” Shiro was desperately trying to pull his thoughts away from the fact that their legs with tangled together under the table where no one else could see. “What have you been up to? High school?” He was grateful when the waitress returned with their drinks, setting the perfectly poured beers down in front of each of them. Reaching his free hand forward, Shiro grabbed his own glass, drinking quickly.

“Survived that,” Keith scoffed, taking a sip of his own beer and nodding his approval of the taste. The last time he had drank with Shiro neither of them were technically of legal age to do so and he smiled at the memory of Matt’s mom scolding all of them when she discovered them giggling in a drunken heap in the Holts’ basement.

“College?” Running his fingertips over Keith’s knuckles, Shiro dragged his eyes away from their joined hands to look at Keith when no immediate answer came. He raised an eyebrow at Keith’s furrowed brow.

“You’ll probably be disappointed,” Keith remarked, running a finger around the rim of his glass. “I didn’t go to some big university. I got a degree in English online, from the comfort of my dad’s old place. Easier to do while also plotting out the greatest novel series _of all time_.” The last part of his sentence came with a bitter undertone and Keith couldn’t place exactly why. Shoving away his normal habit of overanalyzing his own thoughts, Keith looked up to shrug at Shiro.

“Why would I be disappointed?” Shiro didn’t like the way Keith was speaking of his accomplishments and felt a familiar flare of his old need to defend Keith. Sometimes Shiro had defended Keith against the world, but mostly Shiro had grown up defending Keith against himself. “Keith, seriously, you have accomplished something that most people couldn’t imagine doing. I wouldn’t be disappointed if you hadn’t gone to college at all.”

With a wary look, Keith studied Shiro and deemed his words to be backed with open honesty. Keith immediately felt better about his own decisions, as if knowing that Shiro wasn’t upset with them somehow made each decision more valid.

It was a ghost of a feeling, one that he could remember blooming when he was six-years-old and jumping over a line of trash cans only to end up sprawled across the pavement staring at the sky. Shiro had bandaged all of his bleeding cuts, reassuring Keith that he would have taken the dare as well and excitedly talking about how close Keith had been to pulling it off. The memory made Keith smile softly into the lip of his glass, pouring a deep drink of beer down his throat to mask the reason for his silence.

Placing the glass back on the table, Keith gave Shiro’s hand a quick squeeze with his thumb. “How about you? Did you take the collegiate world by storm?” He noticed the pained flinch in Shiro’s face, but decided not to comment on it. Just as he decided not to comment on the scar across Shiro’s nose that made him even more beautifully badass looking or the metal arm which Shiro seemed determined to keep hidden under the table. Part of it was selfishness, his heart unsure it could handle the details of whatever brought about the changes in Shiro’s body but the biggest part was selfless. Keith had never made Shiro talk when he didn’t want to, and if Shiro wasn’t going to offer the details for his body alterations, Keith would never push him for them.

Taking a slow sip of his beer, Shiro contemplated the best way to answer. He never lied to Keith about anything, except the lie by omission regarding his own feelings toward his best friend. Deciding that their future should be based on the same raw honesty as most of their past, Shiro shrugged. “Four years, top of my class, walked out with a good job which I am still doing as of… well… today,” Shiro chuckled, finger trailing through the condensation running down the side of his glass. “Basically the standard life you would expect, I guess.” He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so melancholy about his own life and he decided that scrutinizing that thought should wait for another time.

“It sounds comforting to me,” Keith watched Shiro trace the water droplets with his index finger. “Better than being a hermit in a shack in the desert.” He smiled when Shiro huffed a laugh. “Hey, you know I never liked people very much.” Keith winked when Shiro looked at him, both of them laughing at the truth in Keith’s words. If it hadn’t been for Shiro’s ruthless determination that Keith make friends, he wouldn’t have even contemplated saying two words to Matt or Pidge.

They were interrupted by the appearance of two giant burgers, stacked high on faded white plates with mounds of fries spilling around them. With wide eyes, Keith thanked their waitress and leaned across the table to whisper, “I’m going to eat all of this,” before stealing a fry from Shiro’s plate and popping it in his mouth.

A sense of déjà vu hit Shiro, the nostalgia flooding into his heart. This could have easily been any Friday night from their last year in high school together, both of them foregoing the social expectations of parties or school dances to sprawl in the crusty booths of their town’s only twenty-four hour diner. Keith had always stolen French fries and Shiro had always used mustard as dipping sauce. When Keith extended the bottle of mustard in Shiro’s direction, his heart fluttered hard in his chest.

In an effort to distract himself, Shiro squirted a mound of yellow onto his plate and quirked a playful eyebrow in Keith’s direction. “So tell me…” he tried to act casual, swirling a fry in his mustard and fluttering his eyelashes, “are you actually going to kill us?” He burst out laughing when Keith threw a pickle at him, catching it in his prosthetic hand and shoving it in his mouth. Shiro let the question go unanswered, settling into his burger and the conversation which finally began to flow more comfortably.

Under the table, their legs remained touching at the ankles, neither of them acknowledging their unwillingness to stop their hidden connection to each other.

* * *

 

Keith’s sides ached from laughing, the tears streaming down his face were the products of humor and Shiro’s ridiculous story about Matt and the unfortunate burning of all his pubic hair. All of Shiro’s college stories seemed to revolve around stupid decisions made by himself or Matt, and Keith could feel a pang of jealousy weaving into every ounce of amusement he felt.

“I’m telling you, he couldn’t sit down for DAYS,” Shiro was gasping for breath, his laughter making it hard to get the rest of the story out. “He had this plastic donut he had to sit on which was apparently actually for people with hemorrhoids.” Consumed by his own hilarity, Shiro banged his fist on the table and let himself collapse forward with laughter. Between his stories about all the dumb things college students do while unsupervised and Keith’s stories about awkward fan moments, they had been laughing for nearly an hour. Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard and definitely knew that he hadn’t laughed for this long with anyone but Keith.

“If I see him again before I leave, I am definitely going to have to find a way to bring it up.” Keith trailed off at the end of his comment, his brain screaming at him about what he was accidentally implying. Nervous, his laughter died away, as he fiddled with his own fingers.

“Oh, if you think the Holts are going to let you get away with not coming to dinner, you are out of your mind.” Shiro observed Keith’s anxious fidgeting. Their plates had been cleared nearly two hours ago and the neat line of beer glasses had gained several friends in that time. Snaking his hand across the table, Shiro leaned forward to lace their fingers back together. “How long are you staying?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask when Keith was leaving, but he wanted to know how long he got to keep him.

If Shiro had his way, Keith’s book tour would end immediately with Keith offering to move into Shiro’s house and stay forever. His lovesick brain was aware that this was a development that was out of the realm of possibility, even if he had let himself play out the fantasy an embarrassing amount of times.

“Plane flies out on Monday,” Keith looked at their fingers, playing with Shiro’s as he talked. “I wish…” He didn’t know how to tell Shiro that Keith wished he didn’t have to leave.

“You should come to Sunday dinner,” Shiro jumped in his seat, metal elbow cracking hard against the table in his enthusiasm. “Ms. Colleen will make you come as soon as Matt tells her you’re here, and it will be another reason to see each other.” Leaning further over the table, Shiro tugged at the wrist of Keith’s shirt. “Please?” He wasn’t too proud to beg for another night with Keith by his side.

“If you think it would be okay,” Keith peered at Shiro’s eager face and felt his reluctance whisk away. “I would love to.” His chest felt tight with how happy Shiro looked. “I don’t know what your schedule is like or… whatever… but… you could come Saturday to the thing. Or you could come tomorrow night… to the world’s worst tradition… or both if you know… you would want to.” Telling Shiro that Coran and Allura had created a karaoke tradition for the night before every big event was probably not the best way to get him to agree to join them, so Keith kept that detail to himself. Biting his lip, he looked at Shiro with hopeful eyes.

“Anywhere you want me, I’ll be,” Shiro offered, blushing at his own eagerness and grinning at the happiness radiating from Keith’s expression. Caught off guard by the openness, and the familiar pang of longing deep in his gut, Shiro found himself just staring into Keith’s eyes with a goofy grin.

In their silence, he caught the opening notes to a familiar song. Sliding to the edge of his booth seat, Shiro stood and extended his hand toward Keith. “Want to dance?” He hoped Keith couldn’t see the nervous quack of his fingers or hear the quiver in his voice. Holding his gaze steady, Shiro felt himself shiver when Keith’s eyes trailed up from his open palm to smile directly at him.

“Anywhere you want me, I’ll be,” Keith mocked back at him, swallowing hard when Shiro blushed for what had to have been the hundredth time since they reunited. Keith never recalled Shiro being the bashful type and he couldn’t help feeling even more attracted to him because of it. Resting his hand in Shiro’s offered one, Keith could feel the nerves building inside of him. Letting himself be pulled onto the small dance floor, Keith tried to focus on breathing as Shiro wrapped him into his arms.

The buttons of Keith’s shirt pressed against Shiro’s belly as he settled his hand on Keith’s lower back. Daring to spread his fingers, Shiro let his pinky skirt the upward curve of Keith’s ass, pressing Keith’s hips closer to his own. Curling their hands together, Shiro brought them to rest against his sternum, making sure Keith could feel how quickly his heart was beating.

Running his fingertips delicately up Shiro’s arm, Keith let them rest at the back of Shiro’s neck. There, he pressed soft strokes into Shiro’s hair line, letting his fingers glide over the soft hairs on the back of Shiro’s neck. He sighed when Shiro leaned forward, their foreheads pressing together as they worked themselves in small circles on the dance floor. “I don’t know if this counts as dancing,” Keith remarked, his eyes closing as he lost the ability to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Shiro’s body moving in perfect rhythm with his own.

“Don’t care,” Shiro replied, smiling when Keith’s laughter breezed across Shiro’s lips. They were so close and Shiro could feel the way Keith was melting into him, making Shiro feel lightheaded with the way they fit together. Keith’s hand on the back of his neck was firm and reassuring, even as it drove Shiro slowly out of his mind.

_It would be a mistake_ , Keith thought, _to kiss Shiro in the middle of a public place._ Allura had made multiple references to the amount of attention they had already received, and Keith knew there was a high chance that someone could be recognizing them right now. Nothing in him could find the desire to care, and Keith pulled back to move his hand to Shiro’s cheek. Caressing the smooth skin over Shiro’s jaw, Keith waited anxiously for Shiro to meet his eyes.

_This is it_ , Shiro thought. _This is the moment when I can tell him everything I have felt for him and still feel for him. This is when I should kiss him._ Shiro’s hand released Keith’s where they were tucked between their chests, and he moved to let his fingers trail into Keith’s hair. Keith’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Shiro went momentarily dumbstruck with his eyes trained on Keith’s moistened lips. _Talk first, then kiss_ , Shiro scolded himself, trailing his hand from Keith’s hair to his cheek, their hips continuing to move together as their makeshift dance continued. Telling himself to be brave, Shiro ran his thumb over Keith’s bottom lip.

“Keith, I-”

“Excuse me, are you K. Kogane?”

Shiro suppressed his groan as Keith pulled away from him, dropping his hands from their respective places on Shiro’s body to turn his attention to the young woman standing expectantly at their sides. Shiro wasn’t in the habit of strangling strangers, but the urge to do so had him shoving his hands in his pockets.

Cursing Allura for imprinting the “always be nice to fans” mantra on his brain, Keith let his hands drop from Shiro’s body to respond to the eager woman addressing him with slightly slurred speech. “Hi, yes, did you want an autograph?” He was proud that he managed to keep the sarcastic bite out of his question, and vowed to make Allura buy him a giant stack of pancakes as a reward.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could get a picture with you,” shooting an arm out, she grabbed Shiro’s wrist when he tried to move away. “Oh you too! I mean, since you guys are like the real Keith and Takashi, right?” Holding her phone up in selfie mode, she turned her back on them and flashed a peace sign. Not knowing what to do, Shiro followed Keith’s lead, leaning over the woman’s shoulder and smiling bewilderedly into her phone. “Oh my god, you two are the cutest! Thanks so much!” Pressing alcohol-sloppy kisses on both of their cheeks, she ran screaming across the dance floor toward her friends.

“What the hell was that about?” Keith inquired, the question more to himself than to Shiro. He could feel himself getting angry about their almost-kiss and turned on his heel to head back to their table. Their tab had been paid when their last drinks arrived and Keith threw down an extra few bills to compensate for the amount of time they had lingered in the same booth.

Feeling Shiro come up behind him, Keith stiffened. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Shiro to touch him, he just felt increasingly weird knowing that people were watching and somehow knew who Shiro was as well. Allura’s voice again trickled into his mind and he shuddered with the idea that she had been right.

“Let’s get out of here,” Keith suggested, grabbing Shiro’s hand roughly and pulling him toward the front exit of the bar. He didn’t look at Shiro’s face, and his mind wondered if Shiro was as disappointed as he was.

The chill of Boston’s early spring air hit his skin and cooled the burning fire on his cheeks as Shiro followed Keith from the bar. Shiro would have given anything to rewind their night by ten minutes, giving himself the foresight to stiff arm that moron woman to the ground before she could interrupt their moment. All he wanted to do was tell Keith he loves him and possibly kiss Keith until there was no question that the words were true. Neither of those things seemed like a possibility now, both of them looking a little lost and disappointed standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

“So, will you come tomorrow night?” Keith couldn’t help the small hitch in his breath when he realized there was a potentially crude interpretation of his question. “I mean out with me and the troubled squad.” He liked the sound of Shiro’s chuckle in response to his nickname for Coran and Allura.

“Definitely,” Shiro nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Do you want to exchange numbers so we can check in about details tomorrow? I have to work until four, but after that I am free.” In his hand, his phone dinged and he blinked down at his screen.

“I’ve had the same number since I got my phone at sixteen,” Keith dropped his phone back in his pocket, refusing to look at Shiro’s face. “I… well… I guess I never deleted your number. Just in case… or something.”

Lifting his phone, Shiro turned the screen to face Keith, revealing his own lie. The contact wasn’t blank like it should have been for an unsaved number, instead it was a single red heart on each side of the word “Kogane.” “I… didn’t get rid of yours either… I didn’t want to seem weird though…”

“This is the point at which Matt would be screaming about how we are both idiots,” Keith joked, trying to will away the thudding of his heart. Not only did Shiro still have his number, but his name was surrounded with hearts. Keith’s brain couldn’t even begin to calculate what that could mean, and he found himself awkwardly shuffling his feet.

“Matt has been calling me an idiot for five years,” Shiro admitted, watching to see if Keith would react with understanding. When he got nothing but a blush from Keith in return, Shiro reached forward to pull Keith into a hug.

They lingered in each other’s embraces, pausing as they pulled away and both of them considering moving in for something more. In the end, they stepped away from each other, each of them once again turning to head in separate directions.

When Keith stepped into his hotel room, his head buzzing with the details of the night and his heart aching from another set of missed opportunities, he nearly jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Retrieving it, Keith unlocked the screen to reveal a text from Shiro. Smiling into his phone, Keith toed off his shoes, sending off a response and praying that Shiro would text him until they both fell asleep.

In the sanctuary of his own bedroom, Shiro flopped on his bed, giddy from Keith’s rapid response. His alarm was due to go off in less than five hours and he planned to spend every minute until Keith slept texting him.

Separated by distance and their own stupidity, Keith and Shiro exchanged messages until they fell asleep in their individual beds, both of their phones lost in the folds of their blankets and their minds lost to dreams of each other.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Last.... 
> 
> Amazing art of the picture discussed in this chapter was created by [bootyfeathers on Tumblr](https://bootyfeathers.tumblr.com) which you can find [here](https://n3rdlif343va.tumblr.com/post/177130887748/n3rdlif343va-bootyfeathers-go-read). Please go give Ken all the love for this amazing art!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going unbeta'ed for this one :) Please excuse any mistakes! 
> 
> I also posted a Sheith one-shot which is a Post Season 7 quick little fluff if you are interested in reading it, it is called [Where We Belong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730515)
> 
> Please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter if you want to talk about this story or Voltron/Sheith in general!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)
> 
>  
> 
> I have also joined the Sheith Prompt Party, so there will be another AU posting once this one is finished! 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has supported this story!!!

_Hands pressed against Keith’s back, fingers digging into his muscles as they drew him in. Keith’s fingers found their way into soft hair, insistently encouraging Shiro to tip his head. Without a care to the world around them, they met each other halfway, pressing not only their lips into the kiss, but letting their bodies tangle together so that there was no space left between them._

The door to his hotel room banged open, causing Keith to startle from sleep and prepare to swing at the intruder who had come to invade the happiness of his dream. He had been dreaming of Shiro, a beautiful dream in which they had returned to their special place in Texas and were working on adding to the reasons it would always be theirs. Seeing Allura step through the door to the bedroom, Keith let the pillow in his hands drop with an irritated scowl.

“Going to defend yourself with a fluffy pillow, were you?” Allura teased, walking briskly across the carpet and depositing a white bag onto Keith’s lap and an insulted paper cup onto his hands. “Coffee, pastry, enjoy.”

“What if I hadn’t been alone?” Keith asked, eying Allura over the top of his cup. He frowned when Allura rolled her eyes.

“I witnessed all the awkward glory of your interactions with Shiro, I suspected from the moment you declared you could eat while staring at the man’s crotch that you would be alone this morning.” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Allura lifted a single eyebrow in Keith’s direction, daring him to make a flippant retort.

He opened his mouth to do as expected, but was cut off by Allura lifting a hand. “Save the snark for someone who might believe it. You’re in love with Shiro, correct?”

Allura’s bluntness never ceased to amaze Keith and he found himself wordlessly shrugging. Looking away, Keith unrolled the top of the bag in his lap, thrilled to discover multiple pastries at the bottom of it. Even though Allura complained about his ability to eat like a starving lion and never gain any chub, she indulged him in all of his worst eating habits. Pulling a sweet smelling cheese danish from the bag, Keith’s jaw dropped in shock when Allura snatched it from his hand.

“Answer my question and you can have it back,” she demanded, holding the sweet just out of Keith’s reach.

Pouting, Keith went to reach back into the bag, sneering in protest when Allura wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Sighing with his own defeat, Keith leaned back against the headboard. “Why do you think I’m in love with him?” It was a childish way to respond to her question, but Keith wasn’t sure he was ready to say the words out loud.

“Keith Kogane, if you don’t stop playing dumb, I am taking away all your sweets and I am posting that picture of you asleep and drooling on the airplane to every social media account I can access.” Squeezing his wrist for emphasis, Allura held her grasp tight while Keith squirmed. “And I’m tagging Shiro.” With a triumphant smirk, Allura released Keith’s wrist.

“Jokes on you, Shiro doesn’t have social media and he already knows that I drool in my sleep.” Keith smiled at his own lap, remembering the first time he had camped out under the stars with Shiro and how Shiro had gently rubbed the drool from his chin under his bottom lip. Feeling a phantom graze of that touch, Keith lifted his hand to brush against his lips.

“Jokes on you, Keith,” Allura bit the pastry in her hand and grinned when Keith groaned. “The world was watching yesterday and now everyone wants to know if Shiro was the inspiration for Takashi’s character. Doesn’t help that he went and said your name in a store full of fans.” Leaning back on her free hand, Allura continued to eat the breakfast treat she had bought for Keith.

“I… what now?” Keith forgot about his mission to eat his way through a bag of pastries, opting instead to stare dumbly at Allura.  

“Photos were posted from yesterday. Most from your friend’s bookstore, some from whatever dive you two found yourselves in afterwards. The way you two look at each other… well let’s just say, everyone should be so lucky. _But_ … it has to be addressed, because fans are going wild over the idea that your characters are based on real people. Specifically, on you and Shiro.” Taking a bite of her pastry, Allura gave Keith an inadequate amount of time to process all of the information being thrown at him. “So I ask again, are you in love with him?”

Keith’s hands shook as he threw the covers off of his legs. Standing, he began to pace, hands gripping and releasing his hair as a secondary sign of the stress building inside of him. When Allura questioningly hummed from her spot on the bed, Keith fell back against the wall, banging his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Of course,” he whispered, the words barely making it past his lips before his smile began to chase them. Even with all the worries and concerns that were trying to crawl through his mind and snatch away his happiness, there was another part of him that was clinging to Allura’s comment about how they looked at each other. Not how Keith looked at Shiro alone, but how they _both_ looked. Not even the flash of anxiety regarding Shiro’s reaction to all of this could take away Keith’s pleasure about this simple observation.

Allura waved her hand in Keith’s direction, a silent request for elaboration. Folding his arms over his chest, Keith dropped his head to glare at the floor. “I’ve always been in love with him. Since we were kids, and definitely before I even knew what love really was. Shiro was my best friend first, but along the way it became something more. But he left…”

This is the part that Keith struggled with. If Shiro loved him, why had he left and never looked back? Keith hadn’t dared to ask during dinner or their text conversation afterwards because he was terrified to discover the answer. Without asking, Keith could keep hoping that Shiro did love him and that the moment in the bar was definitely an almost-kiss.

“Alright, as much as I love this pining Keith act, I have to tell you that your friend Pidge informed both me and Coran that Shiro has been in love with you, probably for your entire friendship. She also said he is the dumbest smart person she knows, for what it’s worth.” Allura paused to smirk at Keith’s chuckle. “If you love him and you are going to pursue whatever this is between you, there has to be some kind of damage control. Otherwise, your friend’s,” Keith rolled his eyes at Allura’s finger quotes around the word friend, “life is about to get a whole lot less private.” Tossing the bag of pastries across the room into Keith’s hands, Allura stood up from the bed. “Eat, get dressed, then we’ll brainstorm. And you need to review the plans sent over by the studio. We have a lot of hours to put in before we can let loose tonight, so get a move on.”

Defiantly collapsing back onto the bed, Keith shoved the better half of a pastry in his mouth and grabbed his phone. If the world wanted a statement about Shiro, he was going to give them one in his own words; words he hoped would also secretly convey his feelings to the man himself.

With a determined scowl on his face, Keith scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and began to write.

* * *

 

The only sound more irritating than the shrill of Shiro’s alarm was the whirring sound of Matt’s vitamixer blending one of his godforsaken creations in the depths of their kitchen. Easing one eye open, Shiro slapped at his blankets until he located his phone, silencing the alarm and falling back against his pillow.

A smile spread over his face causing a dull ache in his cheek muscles, reminding him how much he had smiled while talking to Keith the night before. He remembered late night conversations from when they were kids, curled up in sleeping bags lying at the top of their town’s most remarkable hill and talking under the cover of the stars. There had been nights that they hadn’t given in to sleep, staying up to watch the sunrise and blearily dragging themselves back to the comfort of Shiro’s bed to sleep away the day. Other nights, they had fallen asleep against one another, their small fire dying at their feet and their heads buried against each other’s shoulders.

Shiro remembered one night in particular, a night that Matt had ditched them for a date with the school’s hottest cheerleader. Keith had suggested they head for their hill anyway and Shiro hadn’t hesitated to say yes. That was the first night that their trio became a duo, and Shiro could distinctly remember how beautiful Keith had looked in the flickering firelight, the light reflecting in Keith’s eyes had made them appear to be a beautiful shade of violet.

Shiro had been seventeen then and a week into his budding relationship with Adam. There had been a moment, frozen forever in Shiro’s mind as his life’s biggest “what if,” when he could’ve kissed Keith. They had been laughing about something stupid, shoving each other back and forth when Keith had lost his balance, nearly toppling down the side of the hill. Shiro had caught him, yanking Keith accidentally into Shiro’s chest causing them both to freeze. The laughter had faded, eyes trailing over each other’s faces and taking daring glances at each other’s lips. No one would have known if it had happened, but Shiro had been a man of honor and had let Keith go. He had chosen to say yes to Adam’s relationship request and Shiro chose to honor it, even after he realized that he had chosen wrong.

A year later, on that same hill, Shiro had said goodbye to Keith, walking away from the boy he would always love and heading toward his future. It would take less than a year for Adam to leave him and only a month beyond that for Shiro to make the second worst decision of his life.

His smile faltered as he relived the harder parts of the last five years, the fond memories of growing up as Keith’s best friend slipping behind the memories of heartbreak and lost limbs. Shaking his head, Shiro tried to clear the thoughts, picking up his phone and using his thumb to flip through his conversation with Keith.

They had talked about everything and anything. Shiro had twice held his finger over the call button, contemplating what Keith would sound like, if his voice would be rough with sleep deprivation and curled up against a pillow. That thought had brought up far more detailed ones about sharing a bed with Keith again and perhaps discovering the sound of Keith’s voice in a different situation entirely. Blushing with his own returning fantasies, Shiro shifted his sweatpants in a vain attempt to calm himself.

The bedroom door banged open revealing a cheeky looking Matt carrying a steaming cup of coffee. “Trade you caffeine for details,” he offered, stepping toward Shiro’s bed and holding out the mug. “Although I’m expecting a very vanilla report considering you are alone in your bed and not sacked out in Keith’s hotel room. Also, no hickeys in sight,” Matt eyed Shiro’s bare chest with a disapproving shake of his head. “I don’t know whether to applaud your chastity or pour this coffee over your head to renounce your stupidity.”

“You talk too much.” Shiro sat up, stealing the cup from Matt’s hand and taking a long sip. His head was feeling a little wonky, the product of too many beers and not enough sleep. Work sounded absolutely awful, except for the distraction it would provide over the hours until he would see Keith again. Placing his mug on the nightstand, Shiro kicked his legs off of the bed, rolling his eyes when Matt flopped into the place he vacated. Heading for his closet, Shiro mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of Matt’s questions.

“Please tell me you at least kissed the man,” Matt sat back against Shiro’s headboard and raised a questioning eyebrow towards Shiro’s retreating back. He snorted when Shiro banged his head purposely against the door to the closet. “So that’s a no,” sighing Matt picked up Shiro’s mug and stole a quick drink. “Are you going to see him again?”

Disappearing into his closet, Shiro took a second to let Matt hang in suspense. When a frustrated grunt came from his bed, Shiro chuckled. “I’m seeing him tonight. He invited me to karaoke.” Technically, Keith had invited him to go out with him and Keith’s colleagues. Being a fan, Shiro knew that meant karaoke night even if Keith hadn’t specified it. He had wondered over the course of their text conversation why Keith had chosen to omit the detail, but he wasn’t concerned enough to bring it up. Pulling down his closest work shirt and tie, Shiro slipped them on and tucked his shirt into his dress pants before stepping out of his closet.

“Alright,” Matt clapped his hands and sprung from the bed. “Here’s the deal.”

“No,” Shiro deadpanned, looping one end of his tie around so he could knot it around his neck.

“Just listen!” Punching Shiro lightly on the shoulder, Matt reached forward to straighten Shiro’s tie and tuck down his collar. “IF you kiss him tonight, I will do all the laundry for a month. If you don’t, you have to do it, including Pidge’s… which means _bras_ …” Matt pretended to shudder, making Shiro laugh.

“Why are you so hellbent on me kissing Keith?” Nervously, Shiro fiddled with the bottom of his tie. He needed to brush his hair and finish getting ready, but his feet seemed unconcerned with moving. Staring down at his socks, Shiro waited for Matt’s answer.

“Because you should have kissed him before now. Literally any time before we left Texas you should have kissed him. Adam be damned.” Matt’s voice took a tip towards the bitter every time he spoke Adam’s name. The ex-boyfriend side of Shiro couldn’t help the warmth that Matt’s loyalty spread inside of him, but the rational part of Shiro knew that four years was more than enough time to move on from the misery that was Adam’s final existence in his life.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Shiro padded across his room, slipping on his watch and plucking his deodorant off of his dresser. He opened two buttons on his shirt to slip his arm inside, applying his deodorant while frowning at the wall. Trying to put together his thoughts, Shiro decided to verbalize the knotted mess in his head. “We almost did last night… I think… but some woman interrupted us.” The scene had played through Shiro’s mind a thousand times before he had drifted to sleep and had even filled his short-lived walk in dreamland.

“Oh I know,” Matt commented, leaning against the doorframe of Shiro’s door. “There is a pretty hot picture of the two of you spreading over the internet like a California wildfire. Actually there are a bunch of pictures, but one in particular looks distinctly pre-kiss-like.”

Slowly, Shiro’s brain registered Matt’s words, his frown deepening as he turned toward his friend, fingers carefully replacing his buttons in their holes. “What do you mean there are pictures?” He knew the woman from the bar had taken a selfie with the two of them, but he had been naïve to the fact that she might have snapped other pictures. The thought sank heavy into his stomach, making it lurch against its own emptiness.

“Do you want to see it?” Matt leaned to his left, snaking a hand into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. “It isn’t bad, it actually _is_ hot, and the comments aren’t bad either. People really, really want you to be the Takashi to Keith’s Keith. Which I mean you are, so yay supportive fans, am I right?” Bouncing his hand against his leg, Matt waited for Shiro to answer any of his questions.

“I… but… like on social media?” Shiro was well aware that his sentence made no sense, but he also knew that Matt had been deciphering his Shiroisms for nearly twenty years. Feeling the hesitation swim in his stomach, a sick swirl of doubt and apprehension, Shiro winced as he reached out a hand toward Matt.

“Don’t look so pained. People are rooting for you.” Matt passed the phone to Shiro, moving to Shiro’s side. “I think the most hilarious part about this is people didn’t realize Keith is gay. I mean seriously, he wears the tightest t-shirts and jeans in existence and writes the most romantic, albeit cowardly vague, gay relationship of all time. And he looks at you like _this_. Yeah, he is _definitely_ straight.” Matt snorted, flicking his thumb and index finger to make the picture larger over Keith’s face.

“Do you wait for me to get up every morning to press play on your mouth?” Shiro elbowed Matt in his side, smirking when Matt stuck his tongue out. Unable to avoid looking at the picture anymore, Shiro braced himself for what he would find on Matt’s phone.

The bar was dimly lit and the dance floor had only provided slightly more light than the booth he had shared with Keith. Highlighted by the dingy hanging lights, they stood together, the blushes covering their cheeks and their eyes seeing only each other. Shiro’s entire body instantly recalled the feeling of Keith against him, and he felt his sharp intake of breath as much as he heard it.

“Told ya,” Matt remarked, pulling the phone from Shiro’s hand. “Look, you two are trending.” Tapping on his phone, Matt held it up for Shiro to see the extensive list of scrolling pictures, including shots from inside of the book store to a few of the same repeated shots from inside the bar.

Dread settled at the bottom of his stomach, making him feel nauseous and uneasy. “Do you think Keith knows about this?” Shiro moved away from Matt, retrieving his laptop bag from its place against the foot of his bed and refusing to look back at Matt for an answer. Keith, who was always private and had never been known to date anyone in the time since he had become famous, was now having his personal life splayed all over the internet, because of Shiro. The anxious ringing in his ears deafened him and he put a hand over his eyes trying to coax himself into calming down.

“There was an official press release on his website about fifteen minutes ago.” Shiro heard Matt’s voice as if it were echoing in a tunnel, turning around to stare blankly at Matt over his shoulder. “I guess it had to be done, because apparently no one knew Keith’s name was… well Keith… until I guess you said it at the signing.” Matt was staring at his phone and missed the distressed expression which took over Shiro’s entire face. “The press release was not… wordy… and that makes me think it was actually Keith who wrote it.”

Finally able to uproot his feet from the place where his toes had curled into the carpet, Shiro once again discovered Matt’s phone in his hand. Encouraged by Matt’s nod, Shiro peered back at the screen.

_All writers take inspiration from their real lives. This situation is no different. Voltron is written about a character who I love with my whole heart, who you as readers have embraced and learned to love as well. This character is nothing compared to the man he is based on, and with that in mind, I would ask that you give him the privacy and respect he deserves._

Smiling, Shiro read Keith’s words again, knowing that it had to have been Keith who had sculpted the careful sentences. Keith wasn’t merely saying that he loved his character, he was implying that he loved Shiro. Turning his goofy smile in Matt’s direction, Shiro barked out a laugh when Matt shoved his shoulder.

“So? Are you going to kiss him or not?” Matt stole the phone from Shiro’s hands and dropped it back in his pocket.

“Definitely gonna kiss him,” Shiro declared, reaching for his bag and laughing again when Matt slapped his shoulder. “Are you going to get dressed? We are going to be late if you don’t hurry up.”

“Ai, ai captain,” Matt joked, saluting Shiro and dodging the punch Shiro aimed at his arm. “Meet you downstairs in five and we can discuss the game plan for operation smooch yer man on the way in.” Cackling, Matt fled from the room before Shiro could actually land a punch.

Grabbing his coffee mug from the nightstand, Shiro retrieved his phone from the bed and flipped off his light. Feeling giddy, he took the stairs two at a time, ready to reread Keith’s words and scan through all the posted pictures over breakfast.

There were exactly nine hours Shiro had to survive to make it through his work day and then he would be headed to meet Keith at his hotel. Hopelessly, ridiculously excited for what the night could bring, Shiro set about making breakfast. Under his breath, he hummed the tune to the song they had danced to the night before, his lips curled in a secretive smile about the plans forming in his head.

* * *

 

Shiro stared at his reflection in the mirrors of the hotel’s elevator, noting the flush to his cheeks and the anxious drumming of his fingers against the gold-plated railing. He had ditched his tie and laptop into his trunk, opting to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt instead of taking the time to drive home and change. His dark blue button down and gray slacks still looked a little overly dressy for a night of karaoke, but he wanted to look good for Keith no matter what they were doing. Peeling his eyes from his own face, Shiro watched the numbers tick as the elevator climbed the last two floors.

The doors slowly opened to the hallway and Shiro felt himself freeze. His conversation with Matt over their morning commute ran through his mind, causing his chest to fill with butterflies as he imagined executing any of the silly suggestions Matt had made. Nervous energy zipped through him, causing him to trip slightly over his own feet when he stepped forward to prevent the elevator doors from closing. Taking a deep breath, Shiro tried to make himself calm down, focusing on the signs which pointed him in the direction of the correct room number.

Inside of his room, Keith attempted to distract himself with the sketches and plans sent over from the movie studio. Allura had told him to have his comments forwarded to the engineering team before noon the next day, but Keith had struggled to stay on task. Shiro had warned him that texting while he was at work would be nearly impossible, and Keith had spent his entire day stressing about Shiro’s knowledge of their new joint fame. Slapping a frustrated hand on the tablet in front of him, Keith jumped when a knock on his door echoed through the empty hotel room.

It took him several seconds of staring at the door with wide eyes for Keith to convince his legs to propel him in the proper direction. Telling himself to be cool, Keith covered the distance in long strides, yanking open the door and causing Shiro to jump with the suddenness of his actions. “Hi,” Keith waved his hand, internally groaning at how dumb he looked.

“Hey,” Shiro responded, waving back despite only two feet of space separating them. He shoved both of his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels and waiting for Keith to say something else.

“I…” Keith took in the way Shiro’s dress pants clung to his muscular legs and the way his collar was opened to reveal a tempting portion of his neck and chest. Feeling temporarily struck dumb by the sight of Shiro in something other than a t-shirt, Keith floundered to collect his words. “I… well… come in!” Flailing a hand to his side, Keith took a step back, holding the door open and indulging his need to check out Shiro’s ass as he walked passed Keith and into the room. If Keith’s brain had any cells left, they were currently swooning in a useless pile at the vision of Shiro’s perfect backside.

“All this space, just for you?” Shiro teased, walking in the room and spinning around. The kitchen sat against the far wall and the bedroom was separated from the living area by a small door. Shiro tried to ignore the rumpled sheets pulled down over the large bed, eyes darting away to glance at the electronics scattered over the small table near the large glass window. Nodding in the direction of Keith’s laptop, Shiro searched for another topic of conversation. “Is this where the magic happens?”

“If by magic you mean a bunch of disconnected paragraphs that don’t resemble a story due in two months,” Keith moved to Shiro’s side, letting his shoulder graze Shiro’s larger one, “Then yeah, that’s exactly where it happens.” He shrugged when Shiro gave him a concerned look. “It’s… never mind…” Plucking the tablet from the table, Keith quickly woke it up. “I do have something that might interest you though.” Grabbing Shiro’s wrist, Keith pulled him toward the couch.

Intrigued and loving the feeling of Keith’s fingers around his wrist, Shiro let himself be dragged onto the couch, leg pressing against Keith’s as they sank into the cushions together. Keith released his arm and Shiro immediately looped it over the back of the couch, angling himself closer to Keith.

A design popped up on Keith’s tablet, making Shiro sit forward in excitement. “Is that… is that what I think it is?” He leaned further in, chest flush with Keith’s shoulder as he tapped the screen to enlarge the image.

“Yeah, it’s one of the lions,” Keith chanced a look at Shiro, realizing how close Shiro’s face was when he turned his head. This close, Keith could see all the details of the scar running over Shiro’s nose and his fingers itched to trace it with loving touches. Shiro’s mouth moved as he spoke, but Keith couldn’t hear the words, his mind lost to color of Shiro’s lips and the beauty of the smile parting them. Pulling himself from his trance when Shiro’s eyes flicked up, Keith stuttered wordlessly before hurriedly looking back to the tablet in his hands.

“So… um… yeah…” Keith paused, praying he could stop feeling Shiro’s gaze trailing over his face. “This is… a concept design… for the movie I mean,” Keith flicked his thumb, bringing up a smaller version with mechanics descriptions. “I’m supposed to give notes, because Allura had them agree to let me have input on everything, but…” Keith raised his head, putting himself back into kissing distance with Shiro’s lips. Swallowing, he tried to complete his thought. “I don’t understand… um… really… understand these descriptions…”

“I could…” Shiro lifted his hand, touching Keith’s cheek with his thumb caressing Keith’s jaw. “I could help with it… if you want… ‘cause that’s what I do… and all.” He felt Keith’s Adam’s apple bob faintly against his palm, his pulse racing underneath Shiro’s touch. “Keith, I-” His eyes fell closed as Keith’s lips collided with his own, Shiro’s body twisting instinctively to pull Keith closer.

Keith hadn’t given himself time to think. In his youth, he had been berated for being all action and very little thought. This time, he figured he had five years of nothing but thoughts and it was time for a lot more action. Letting the tablet thump onto the carpet, Keith let himself be pulled flush to Shiro’s chest, his hands immediately finding themselves brushing through Shiro’s hair.

It wasn’t enough. Shiro felt like he was on the edge of a cliff and they were eagerly falling together. Sliding his hands down Keith’s sides, he hooked Keith around the thighs and guided him to straddle Shiro’s lap. His whole body shuddered with the sensation of Keith’s weight resting on him, his mouth opening to receive everything Keith was offering.

Running his hands down Shiro’s neck, Keith left his fingers wander over Shiro’s chest, his knees spreading further to bring their bodies closer together. They both groaned, breaking their kiss only slightly when their obvious arousals brushed together. Keith’s mind spun out, leaving nothing but physical desire to guide his actions as he dived back in to continue to kiss the life out of Shiro.

From Keith’s back pocket, the Star Wars theme began to play. Groaning for a completely different reason, Keith sat back to pull his phone from his pocket. He felt light-headed as Shiro continued to run his hands over Keith’s thighs, his mood immediately dropping when he saw Allura’s name blaring at him from the face of his phone.

“Hello?” he answered, not hiding his disgruntle mood. Below him, Shiro looked beautifully tousled and Keith had the explicit urge to fling his phone across the room. On the other end of the line, Allura was informing him that she and Coran were waiting in the lobby and their dinner reservations were quickly approaching. Pouting, Keith replied with a quick, “okay, okay,” before hanging up his phone and tossing it on the couch. Leaning forward, his hands returned to the sides of Shiro’s face, angling his chin so Keith could look at him.

“We have to go?” Shiro asked, his pout mirroring Keith’s as he spread his hands over Keith’s back and pressed Keith further into his lap. Shiro had kissed a handful of men in his life, but it had never felt the way it felt to kiss Keith. He regretted that they were committed to their evening plans, especially when Keith gracefully rolled his hips. “You’re killing me.” Tipping his chin up, Shiro smiled into the kiss that Keith offered him.

“Will you come back?” Keith broke the kiss to lean his forehead against Shiro’s, closing his eyes when the question slipped through his lips. “I mean tonight, after we are tortured for a few hours. Will you come back here with me?” He knew it was a bold question, and perhaps too soon to be asking it, but Keith had been waiting for Shiro for so long and he was positive he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Yes,” Shiro exhaled, pulling Keith back down to kiss him again. He hated that they had to leave when things had finally gotten started, but the promise of later made his heart drum dangerously loud in his chest. Playfully whimpering when Keith climbed off his lap, Shiro let himself be pulled into a standing position. Reaching out, he snaked an arm around Keith’s waist and yanked him back. “Remind me to text Matt,” he whispered against Keith’s lips, stealing another kiss and muffling Keith’s confused noise.

Letting himself get lost again, Keith kissed Shiro until breathing became a requirement. Taking a step back, knowing that distance was the only way they were ever getting out of the hotel room, Keith ran a hand through his hair. “Do I even want to know why?”

Shiro’s laughter followed him out of the door, their hands linked together as they headed for the elevator. As the elevator doors slid shut, Keith looped a finger into the front of Shiro’s belt and tugged him forward. “Kiss me all the way down?” he asked, trailing his nose over Shiro’s jaw and looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“Thank God you’re on the top floor,” Shiro smiled, leaning against the wall to crowd into Keith’s space.

It wasn’t until the final beep that they separated, hastily trying to smooth their hair and straighten out their clothing when the elevator doors reopened to reveal Allura leaning against the wall. With a knowing smile, she held her hand out to Coran, snatching the cash he slapped into her palm and shoving it into her purse. “Now that that’s settled,” she declared, standing up from her position and spinning on her sharp heel. “Let’s go have some fun boys.”

Deciding that he definitely didn’t want to know how many people were betting on him and Shiro, Keith wound his arm around Shiro’s waist and grinned when Shiro rested a hand against Keith’s hip. He wanted to ask Shiro what all of this meant and he knew eventually they had to talk about where they stood, but all of that could wait. Right now, he wanted to sink into the feeling of Shiro at his side and the giddiness tap-dancing in his heart.

Shiro grinned down at Keith, all his worries about their unknown status and their newfound fame whisking away from his mind. All of that could be discussed later, much, much later, preferably after Shiro had the chance to discover just how comfortable Keith’s hotel bed was. With that thought happily skipping around in his mind, Shiro nodded to the chauffer holding the car door open and slid into the backseat with Keith right behind him.

“Let’s get warmed up!” Coran shouted with an already-filled tumbler in his hand, fingers of his free hand fiddling with the radio and settling on a song that made Shiro’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. As Coran and Allura began to sing, loudly and off-key, he blinked down at Keith.

“I didn’t promise this wouldn’t be painful,” Keith scoffed, hand landing on Shiro’s thigh with a squeeze. “I do promise to make it up to you.” He nipped at Shiro’s ear and smiled when he watched it turn pink. 

Curling his arm over Keith’s shoulder, Shiro made himself relax, attempting to ignore the dying cats impressions coming from the other end of the car. His lips were still tingling from their kisses, his ear felt pleasantly warm where Keith was nipping at it and his mind hummed with all of Keith’s implied promises. Even as Coran hit a high note that should be made illegal in every galaxy, Shiro continued to grin, turning to kiss Keith’s nose and bury his face in Keith’s hair.

Keith really hated karaoke night, but having Shiro with him and knowing Shiro would still be there after their ears were rendered numb by horrible singing was giving him a reason to reconsider. Tuning out the noise Coran and Allura qualified as singing, Keith turned his body to curl into Shiro’s embrace. Letting himself get lost in the feeling of finally being held in his preferred set of arms, he decided that there was another fact that had never changed. Having Shiro by his side was sure to make any activity infinitely better, even the dreaded tradition of karaoke.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sing with me, sleep with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unbetaed! (Sorry this update is 10 hours late, real life tried to eat me!)
> 
> I wonder if anyone will have a guess as to who the casted leads are for Voltron the movie ;) 
> 
> Also, there are songs in this chapter (because karaoke).  
> [Truly, Madly, Deeply, Coran and Allura singing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQnAxOQxQIU)  
> [It's Raining Men, Coran's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5aZJBLAu1E)  
> [Pour Some Sugar on Me, Allura's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14iHRpk9qvQ)  
> [You are the Reason, Sheith singing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByfFurjQDb0&index=10&list=PLzUS7doGvJeOk4SKBrop8hxo2tShuCSKR&t=0s)
> 
> As always, come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

Dinner had been more pleasant than Shiro had expected, conversation and wine flowing in equally rhythmic waves. He noted that Keith was nursing the same wine glass through the entire meal and followed his lead, trying to hold in his amusement at the rate in which Coran and Allura were banishing empty bottles from the table. His food had been exquisite and the bite Keith had offered him from Keith’s fork had melted his brain and heart with the intimacy of the gesture. They rotated resting their hands on each other’s thighs throughout the meal and by the end Shiro was drunker off of Keith’s touch than any of the alcohol that had been consumed.

Leaving the restaurant had been fairly entertaining, Allura and Coran scolding Keith for picking up the entire tab and accidentally swapping jackets due to their own distraction being the definite highlights. Wrestling them into the back of the waiting car as they debated songs for their performances was definitely not.

Shiro had asked Keith if karaoke night was always like this and Keith had nodded ominously slow. This had made Shiro laugh and lean in to give Keith a quick kiss before promising to protect him. Across the car, Allura and Coran burst into an alarmingly loud version of Truly, Madly, Deeply causing Keith to look at the ceiling and promise murder by the end of the night. Shiro felt happier and more relaxed, and the smartest part of his brain told him it was because he was able to be affectionate with Keith without a second thought. He had waited practically his whole life to experience this with Keith and he found himself settling into the natural instincts of affection without a missed step.

They stepped from the car and Keith reached out to link his hand with Shiro’s. Dinner had been amazing, not a single fan seemed to exist in the entire restaurant and Keith was once again thankful for the difference between being author famous and actor famous. He had started following the Instagram accounts for the Voltron movie’s leads and he had no idea how they survived their day-to-day lives. Dragging Shiro behind Coran and Allura who were already dancing along to the music flowing from the bar, Keith noted that his usual deep-seated dread was nowhere to be found. Rolling his eyes at Shiro’s goofy grin, Keith ducked his head to hide his own giddy smile.

There was a reserved table which already had several bottles of alcohol settled into ice buckets at the center of it. Raising an eyebrow at Allura, Keith shook his head. “You have to be functioning tomorrow,” he remarked, flipping his own glass over as an indication that he didn’t want her to fill it. He had plans for when he returned to his hotel room with Shiro and he had no intention of seeing them through while under the influence of alcohol. When Allura defiantly turned his glass back over, Keith glared at her.

“Tonight’s karaoke features a contest,” nodding toward the stage, Allura didn’t hold back her snicker at Keith’s horrified reaction. “Coran and I are competing separately, but I called and managed to sweet talk them into adding you and Shiro onto the duet list.” Picking up a bottle of rum, Allura swung it from her fingers. “Sure you don’t want some liquid courage now?” Tipping the bottle, Allura poured a surprisingly steady amount of alcohol into her own glass.

Keith growled. He never sang on these nights and Allura knew that. “I swear to-”

“It might be fun,” Shiro added, slipping onto the closest chair and shoving his glass toward Allura. “I’ll have one- _one_ ,” he emphasized, smiling when Allura grinned at him. He felt an elbow dig into his side and glanced sideways at Keith. The glare on Keith’s face was too cute to ignore and Shiro grabbed Keith’s chin, pecking a kiss to his grumpy lips. “Have a drink with me and pick a song,” Shiro urged, handing his full glass to Keith and picking up Keith’s empty one. Handing it to Allura, Shiro wiggled his eyebrows in Keith’s direction until he saw Keith’s expression soften.

“I already picked your first song,” Coran declared. “Keith always listens to it through his headphones on the plane and as of yesterday, I finally figured out why!” Busy adjusting his trench coat and pushing down whatever was threatening to bulge from his pockets, Coran missed Keith’s alarmed scowl. “It only seemed fitting for you two to sing it together!” Finally looking up, Coran tutted at Keith. “That’s not an attractive look, Mr. Kogane.”

Keith’s ears were burning and his head was quickly filling with ways to silently kill Coran and remove Shiro from the bar before he ever learned of the song Coran had picked for them. In truth, it could be any number of songs and Keith was internally panicking over what song Coran had picked.

“You have to tell me now,” Shiro whispered with his chin propped on Keith’s shoulder, his eyes watching Keith’s ears turn redder. The idea that Keith listened to songs that made him think of Shiro was hitting every one of Shiro’s deepest romantic desires. He had begged Adam to help him pick a song for their relationship, and had been continually rebuffed over his “ridiculous sentimentality.”

Frowning at the memory of Adam’s dismissal, Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist and tried again. “Please,” he pouted, angling his head to the side, comically poking his bottom lip out and batting his eyelashes at Keith. It had been a tactic Shiro had used to get his way almost their entire childhood and if Keith’s softening smile was any indication, it was still as effective.

With Shiro’s arms anchoring him, Keith grabbed the glass Allura had sat in front of him and downed it in one swig. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Keith opened his Spotify app and flicked his finger to his most embarrassing playlist. Laying the phone on the table, he flicked it in Shiro’s direction. “Any one of these,” he mumbled, face burning as he grabbed the bottle of alcohol from Allura’s hand and took a swig directly from the opening.

His ears burned as Shiro picked up his phone and Keith refused to look at Shiro’s face as he scanned the list of songs. Instead, Keith focused on Coran’s excited leap from his seat when his name was called by the obnoxiously enthusiastic man running the contest. Keith had missed all of the explanation regarding the rules and procedures of the worst version of a competition ever created and not a single cell in his brain could find space to care. At some point, he would be on the stage that Coran was currently stepping on to and singing with Shiro, and his brain could do nothing beyond screech.

The song started over the speakers and Keith’s eyes went wide. Under his breath he whispered “oh no” as Coran began to belt out the opening lyrics to It’s Raining Men. When the chorus rolled around, Keith smacked a hand to his forehead. The bulges in Coran’s pockets were apparently green plastic army men and he was currently making it rain them over the entire crowd.

“Tough act to beat,” Shiro laughed, throwing an arm around Keith’s waist. His head was buzzing with the rum he had regrettably thrown back as quickly as Keith had consumed his own and the feeling of Keith leaning into his side made Shiro’s brain go immediately to what he would rather be doing right now. Giving in to his own desires, Shiro nuzzled into Keith’s neck. “If we are really bad and lose early, does that mean we get to leave?” He trailed soft kisses below Keith’s ear, using his teeth to tug lightly at Keith’s earlobe.

“Oh get a room!” Allura teased, throwing a napkin in Keith’s face. She returned to laughing at Coran’s second round of plastic men throwing, cupping her hands around her mouth to scream her support.

“I am _trying_ ,” Keith growled between gritted teeth. Shiro was growing more affectionate with every hour they spent together and Keith was slowly losing his ability to think of anything else other than getting them both back to his hotel room as soon as possible. He missed the end of Coran’s song, only snapping out of his lust-centered haze when the entire place erupted in cheers.

“Beat that!” Coran challenged, tugging a strand of Allura’s hair as he plunked back down in his own seat. Snagging a handful of sugar packets from the holder on the table, Allura smirked at all of them when her name was called.

“I’m going to ask again,” Shiro lifted his head from its place by Keith’s neck, eyes going wide as the opening chords of Pour Some Sugar On Me flooded through the speakers. He suddenly realized why Allura had stolen all their sugar packets and flicked his eyes back to Keith. “Is it always like this?”

Eyebrows pressed upwards so they were hidden under his bangs, Keith felt a combination of perplexed and horrified. Allura was sauntering over the stage, collecting admirers with every step and sneakily opening sugar packets as she sang. When the chorus hit, the crowd began to cheer and Coran banged his head against the table. “I think she is beating you,” Keith remarked, his tone flat and his eyes unable to peel themselves away from the spectacle Allura was making of herself. Everyone in the bar was lapping it up, shouting at the top of their lungs and cheering Allura on by name.

“What song am I singing with Keith?” Shiro shouted over the crowd, leaning over the table to hear Coran’s answer and the plopping back to thumb through Keith’s phone again. His ability to hear Allura and her adoring fans vanished as Shiro located the song and quickly googled the lyrics on his own phone. Flipping through them, he felt his cheeks growing hot and his heart racing in his chest. “This song makes you think of me?” he asked, biting his bottom lip as he peered at Keith.

Cautiously, Keith nodded. The noise in the bar was significantly less now that Allura had returned to their table and another contestant was attempting to ruin a ballad making everyone wince instead of cheer. He was worried his voice would be unsteady if he tried to answer out loud, so he laid a hand on Shiro’s shoulder and squeezed. There was no way that Keith was going to be able to sing the song with Shiro as part of the duet.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Shiro declared, brows furrowing in determination and shoulders coming up straighter. “We aren’t going to lose on purpose. We’re going to win.” Grinning, Shiro pulled Keith closer. “And then you get to pick your prize.” Reaching down, Shiro gave Keith’s butt a quick squeeze, winking at Allura when she pretended to gasp.

“I can think of at least five things that would be a better prize than that plastic trophy thing,” Keith replied, pressing closer to Shiro and resting his hands against the back of Shiro’s neck. He had no desire to sing karaoke and he was positive he was going to suck at it, but Shiro had lit the competitive spark deep inside of him. The promise of Shiro’s personal prizes also sweetened the deal.

“Just five?” Shiro teased, using his free hand to run through Keith’s hair. “You need to get more creative.” Laughing at Keith’s offended jaw drop, Shiro leaned up to kiss Keith on the nose. “Alright, what do you say? Let’s win this thing? Together?” Shiro threw on the last word because he knew it would convince Keith to give in.

“Fine,” Keith relented, resting his forehead against Shiro’s. “Together,” he agreed.

In the back of Keith’s mind he vowed to never, ever let Allura and Coran sign him up for karaoke again.

* * *

Stumbling into Keith’s hotel room, they were both still laughing from their adventurous plight through the hotel. Allura had been beaten out for champion solo karaoke singer by a guy with long white hair who only sang power ballads from the 80’s and did so while swinging his ridiculous hair. Keith strongly believed that Allura had actually won the clap-off, but his opinion mattered to exactly no one.

In her drunken state of being, Allura had informed Keith that she had previously rescheduled the start time of the event for one p.m. but hadn’t bothered to mention it to anyone. Shiro confirmed that the flyers for the large book signing event had specified one o’clock and Keith had barely resisted the urge to ask how Shiro knew this. Coran had done so anyway, clinging to the elevator railing and purring out “oh, so you are a fan and a _faaaannnnn_.” His aggressive eye wiggle had left Keith and Shiro in hysterics, and Allura’s attempts to steal their trophies had them snorting while they playfully dodged her drunken grabby hands.

It had taken an act of God, and their combined strength to deposit each of the trouble squad into their respective rooms. Laughing against each other’s shoulders, Keith and Shiro had made their way back to Keith’s room, their karaoke trophies dangling from their fingers.

“You know…” Shiro dropped his trophy on the nearest flat surface and toed off this shoes. “You have a pretty good voice.” The image of Keith shyly standing by as Shiro had started their first song made Shiro’s heart flip flop almost as severely as it had when Keith had joined in with his own part. In their entire friendship, Shiro had never heard Keith sing and he had definitely never heard Keith sing in his beautiful raspy voice while entrancing Shiro with the lyrics of their duet.

“Me?” Keith squawked, his trophy abandoned to the kitchen counter and his shoes disregarded into a pile at his feet. “Look who is talking Mr. Baritone.” Keith tried to make his voice tip low and ended up laughing along with Shiro over his efforts. In the car he had felt the telltale signs of nerves rising within him, but somehow during their trek through the hotel, he had felt them fall away. Even with their night still hanging between them, and Keith’s newfound knowledge that he didn’t need to be up at the crack of dawn, he felt comfortable in Shiro’s company.

He also wanted to strip all of Shiro’s clothes off of him and jump his bones, but that was neither here nor there.

“So…” Shiro took a step toward Keith, his heart bouncing between its place in his chest and the back of his throat. “Do you want to…” His question trailed off, Keith’s hands distracting him from his grasp of the English language when they began to trace a steady line from Shiro’s abdomen to his hips.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” Keith blurted out. The weight of his best-kept secret landed in his stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Shiro, instead opting to watch his own fingers trace patterns over Shiro’s belt line. Somehow, he thought stripping down bare and throwing each other onto the bed would be less awkward than his confession. Realizing Shiro was still silent, Keith dared to sneak a peek at Shiro’s face.

Tears were involuntarily streaming down Shiro’s cheeks. Letting his fingers find their place at the crock of Keith’s neck, Shiro tried to gather himself enough to speak. “Keith,” he practically croaked, swallowing hard to try to tamper his own emotions. “I’ve loved you in one way or another since the day you came crashing over my grandfather’s trashcans in that makeshift scooter you had put together with tape.” Smiling, Shiro remembered the dirty little boy who had dented Shiro’s grandpa’s trashcans and then kicked them for good measure as if the trashcans had been the ones doing the damage. Shiro had bandaged Keith’s cuts and had strategized ways to fix Keith’s homemade scooter design over milk and cookies.

“I miss that scooter,” Keith commented absentmindedly, smiling when Shiro chuckled. “I always thought you… I don’t know… loved me like a brother or something.” Reminded of their blood brother’s oath, Keith lifted his left hand to show the scar that still remained around his left ring finger. He couldn’t stop his startled exhale when Shiro wrapped his own matching scarred finger around Keith’s and pulled Keith’s hand to his lips to kiss it.

“You are the one who wanted to be blood brothers, remember?” Shiro had been ten when Keith had discovered his dad’s old pocket knife and suggested the outdated ritual. Never one to deny Keith anything, Shiro had packed the fire supplies and the first aid kit, letting Keith drag him up their hill to cement their blood brother bond. Teasing, Shiro ran his tongue along the line of Keith’s finger loving the way Keith’s cheeks flushed with the action.

“I just wanted to keep you,” Keith admitted, his heart squeezing inside of him at Shiro’s happy smile. “You were always destined to do so much and I guess… I thought maybe if we were bonded that you couldn’t leave me behind.” Feeling his own tears well in his eyes, Keith hung his head. He was supposed to be seducing Shiro and having the sex he had always dreamed of, but instead he was crying like an emotional mess.

“Hey,” Shiro tilted Keith’s head up and waited until Keith met his eyes. “You gave me the confidence and support I needed to adventure out of our small town. Everything you said to me that day on the hill made me stronger, but it also made me realize how much I loved you. The day I left for college, I cried all the way from you to my house. I never wanted to leave you, but I also knew that you were destined for great things. Somewhere in my heart, I was always convinced we would find our way back to each other.” Shiro was babbling but he couldn’t help it. The dam on his feelings had broken and he wanted to share every single one of them with Keith.

“Were you happy?” Keith asked, eyes searching Shiro’s face and voice still rough with his barely contained emotion. He had spent every day of the last five years wishing for Shiro’s happiness and hoping that he had gone into the world to discover everything he ever wanted. Not once did he let himself wish Shiro would give it all up to return to Keith, but he had hoped beyond reason that they would find each other again.

Contemplating the question, Shiro surveyed the array of emotions flickering over Keith’s face. “I was for a bit, and then I wasn’t. Then I…” letting the thought hang, Shiro waved a hand at his body. “I didn’t think I was worthy of loving you anymore.”

“Idiot!” Keith smacked at Shiro’s chest, feeling the flash of anger zing through him. “I don’t care what you look like or if you have bionic parts. You are still Shiro where it counts. Right here,” placing his hand on Shiro’s chest over his heart, Keith could feel the quickened pace of Shiro’s heartbeat. Holding back his tears, Keith pressed harder into Shiro’s chest. “I’ve never stopped loving you,” he whispered, as if Shiro would reject his words.

“Keith,” Shiro closed his hand over Keith’s on his chest and rested their foreheads together. “I have always loved you and will always love you. In a strictly non-platonic way in case you need that explicitly identified.” Keith’s laughter made the remaining tension bleed from Shiro’s shoulders and he pulled Keith tighter to his chest. “So what do we do now?” he asked, eyes pressed closed to block out the simmering embarrassment of his question.

“Each other?” Keith suggested playfully, his hand on Shiro’s hip grazing to the front of Shiro’s pants and down the seam of Shiro’s zipper. “Maybe we could… try showering together… you know… first. And then… um… go from there?” Keith nearly yelped when Shiro grabbed his ass.

“I like the way you think,” Shiro hummed, using his leverage on Keith’s ass to roll their hips together. “Then I would like to evaluate the comfort level of your mattress.” He smiled into Keith’s cheek as he whispered the words. His reward was Keith’s quiet moan and another teasing glance against the front of his pants. Taking a steadying breath, Shiro tilted his head to kiss Keith. Getting carried away with the feeling of Keith’s mouth against his own, Shiro completely forgot the plan he had just proposed until Keith was pushing him backwards toward the bedroom. Hooking Keith just below his ass, Shiro lifted him up and over his shoulder, laughter exploded as Keith squealed and fought against the grasp.

Playfully letting himself be carried toward the bathroom, Keith began to smack Shiro’s ass in time with his own rapid heartbeat, squeaking when Shiro turned to bite a mark into Keith’s butt cheek.

In a mess of laughter and teasing touches, they finally found their way under the warm shower water and back into each other’s arms.

* * *

 

Shiro had fallen asleep after their second round of bringing each other to orgasm, his soft snores breezing over Keith’s bare chest and his heavy arms wrapped around Keith’s waist. Lounging back against his pillows, Keith felt cherished and utterly in love with the feeling of Shiro so tightly wrapped around him.

Their hours together, starting from the moment Shiro had first walked through Keith’s hotel room, to the last second of Shiro’s consciousness, had been some of the best in Keith’s life. The moment their bodies had connected for the first time, Keith knew that he had reached the pinnacle feeling of heaven on earth.

It had been hilariously awkward as they had play-fought for dominance, their skin pink from their shower and their hair barely dried in their haste to put their hands all over each other. Shiro had started on his back and Keith had ended on his, leading to the best two orgasms Keith had ever experienced in his life.

His body was relaxed and warm, a product of being perfectly loved and flawlessly cuddled. Keith had never been a fan of much human contact, but with Shiro he wanted everything his boyfriend was willing to give.

 _His boyfriend_ , Keith smiled. Somewhere between the first set of hotel towels gaining questionably stiff stains and the second time they had found themselves tangled together, Shiro had blushed into his hairline and mumbled about wanting Keith to be his boyfriend. In true Keith fashion, he had responded by telling Shiro that he definitely wanted to lock up the finest ass in the galaxy. Groaning when he realized that he may have spent too much time studying the Instagram posts of movie Voltron’s casted Keith, he had apologized for his lameness while Shiro had hysterically cackled into the nearest pillow.

Shifting, Keith peered out the window, noting the lightening sky and the colors beginning to spill back into the world. Finally feeling at peace, Keith snuggled his arms further around Shiro and closed his eyes.

Now that they were together, Keith was positive that nothing could go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ominous ending intended. 
> 
> Also, I am super behind in responding to comments but I promise I will get to all of them!! Thank you to everyone who has left comments so far!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The allure of your story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I skipped a week of updates because it was my birthday and then real life got too real and I couldn't handle anything beyond that. 
> 
> 2\. This chapter started out as a monster in length, but I decided to separate it. Because of this, you may see the total chapter count bump up (depends on how I decide to separate the rest of the story). 
> 
> 3\. Thus, you will avoid the angst portions of this story for a little longer, well until Wednesday at least. I'm not an "angst for no reason" writer so it isn't being included just because. (Wednesdays chapter is a little longer because it naturally falls that way)
> 
> If you want to talk Voltron, Sheith or anything else - please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

When Keith had fallen asleep, the idea of slowly waking up next to Shiro and potentially indulging in lazy morning intimacy had been at the front of his mind. Most of his dreams had consisted of similar scenarios, until the last one which had him sitting straight up in the bed, his fingers itching to write. His brain felt awake for the first time in months, spurring him to want to capture all of his motivation immediately. Carefully easing out of Shiro’s grasp, Keith tiptoed to the table where his laptop rested, his mind whirling with details he was frantic to get on the page.

Foregoing his normal set up, Keith stacked his tablet and laptop under his arm, snagging his glasses and a hair tie from the place he had left them the day before. He had tried for hours to write anything useful, flitting between reviewing the plans for his movie’s robots and key smashing to create paragraphs that couldn’t even qualify as English. The sinking feeling of failure had followed him for long enough, haunting all of his steps like a mourning spirit. That feeling was absent now, replaced by the steady beating of desire to write. Slipping back into the bed, Keith smiled when Shiro snored, combing his fingers through Shiro’s hair and marveling at the soft smile which appeared on Shiro’s face. Effortlessly, Keith tied his hair back, setting his glasses on the bridge of his nose and settling back against the headboard. A smirk took over his face as he set his hands to the keys, letting the movie in his mind begin to play.

* * *

 

Shifting on the bed, Shiro sought out the warm body next to him without opening his eyes. He heard Keith chuckle as Shiro found a place to nuzzle into Keith’s thigh, his sleepy brain barely registering the sound of typing and the position Keith was sitting in. Easing one eye open, Shiro suddenly felt very alert as he took in the sight of Keith concentrating on the screen in front of him.

It was unfair really. Keith was already more handsome than any man Shiro had ever known, but with the careless ponytail and perfectly fitted glasses, he was like every sexy librarian fantasy that had ever been conceived. Shiro felt an immediate desire to pull on the small bundle of hair, his body reacting to his explicit thoughts faster than he could tell his brain to shut up. Trying to distract himself, Shiro smushed his face back into Keith’s leg and muttered his good mornings.

“Hi,” Keith smiled, saving his current work and slightly closing the lid of his laptop. The instinctual need to protect his work kicked in before he could think better of it and he felt a twinge of guilt about hiding anything from Shiro. Reminding himself that he had a contract which included confidentiality, Keith carefully placed his computer on the nightstand and slid down to be encompassed by Shiro’s waiting arms. “Hi,” he said again, foregoing the threat of morning breathe to greet Shiro with a kiss.

“Glasses,” Shiro remarked, his unawake brain betraying him and causing him to blush. Burying his head into Keith’s chest, he could feel Keith’s laughter under his cheek. “That wasn’t a sentence.”

“No it was not.” Keith ran his fingers over Shiro’s bare shoulders, feeling his skin tingling everywhere they were touching.

This was a moment Keith had been dreaming about his whole life. When they were younger, they would often find themselves cuddled together upon waking up in whoever’s bed they were sharing, but waking up together, naked and thoroughly marked from their night before, was a sensation that Keith wouldn’t trade for the whole world. Kissing the top of Shiro’s forehead, he sighed into his overwhelming happiness.

“The glasses are hot,” Shiro commented, his voice muffled against Keith’s bare chest. A full sentence wasn’t any less embarrassing but Shiro could feel Keith’s growing interest pressing between their bodies and decided it didn’t matter.

“Being partially blind due to glaring at a computer screen for years is… not so much.” Keith continued to run gentle sweeping touches over Shiro’s back, trailing into his scalp and relishing in the vibrations of Shiro’s quiet moans. “You know…” Keith lost his thought when Shiro began to press kisses over his heart, tongue adventuring out to sweep over one of Keith’s nipples. “It’s… um… only… nine…” groaning, Keith tightened his grip on Shiro’s shoulders when Shiro caught his nipple between teasing teeth.

“How long have you been up?” Shiro asked, pausing in his quest over Keith’s body to ask the question and returning to his mission before Keith could answer.

“A few hours,” Keith rushed out, feeling Shiro’s hands settle at his hips, Shiro’s grip tightening and then yanking Keith flat onto the bed. “I had a need to write.”

Momentarily distracted, Shiro sat up with an eager glance toward the disregarded laptop. “Book seven?” he asked, hands fluttering on Keith’s waist in his excitement.

Raising an eyebrow, Keith hooked his legs around Shiro’s thighs and flipped their positions on the bed. “Look, this Shiro fanboy act is sexier than I imagined, but if you get distracted by-” Keith’s sentence was cut off by Shiro catching him in a deep kiss.

Pulling back, Shiro admired the way Keith’s eyes remained closed, his cheeks dusted with pink and his chest rising and falling with his own arousal. “You imagined me as your fanboy, huh?” Shiro tried to unsuccessfully temper his smile by biting on his lower lip, his amused chuckle getting caught in his throat at Keith’s admonishing look.

“You know, if you keep teasing me, I will just go hop in a cold shower.” Moving off of Shiro, Keith pretended to scoot for the edge of the bed, easily letting himself be pulled back and pinned when Shiro grabbed for him. “I could get out of this hold,” he teased, his mind flitting back to their old high school wrestling days when Shiro changed his stance and took away all but two of Keith’s escape possibilities. Playing unfairly, Keith bent his knee, pressing his thigh against Shiro’s erection.

“That’s not a legal move,” Shiro breathed, leaning down to bite at Keith’s collarbone. His words stuttered as Keith pressed harder, his mouth finding its hold on Keith’s skin, determined to leave a mark.

Shimming down the bed, Keith found Shiro’s mouth again. His brain was swimming and his body was buzzing as he let himself melt into Shiro’s touches. He let his hands begin to wander again, pressing massaging circles into Shiro’s muscles in their path down to Shiro’s perfect ass.

The sound of Keith’s cell phone ringing broke through the quiet song of their intimacy. “I am actually going to kill her,” Keith growled, wiggling to retrieve his phone and angrily accepting the call. “How are you even awake?” he barked into the phone. He managed to control his yelp when Shiro bent down and began to explore below his belly button.

“We all have responsibilities, Keith.” Allura didn’t exhibit any signs of a hangover as she spoke, which seemed completely unfair. Rolling his eyes, Keith sighed in response, clamping his hand over his mouth as Shiro upped his efforts to distract him. “And speaking of responsibilities, did you get your notes over to the studio? They are due by noon and we need to leave no later than that for today’s event.”

Keith failed to respond, his brain melting into goo between his ears as he watched Shiro between his legs. Allura’s irritated throat clearing made him refocus. “I didn’t,” he struggled to keep his voice steady, “I was writing. Shiro will help me get the notes finished though. No worries.” Keith shoved his fist into his mouth and bit hard when Shiro hummed around him in acknowledgement.

“Shiro… oh…” Allura’s response rang with awkwardness. “I should have thought about that… I will see you in the lobby at noon. Please cover any marks and get those notes in!” The line was dead before Keith could even contemplate a response.

Throwing his phone off the bed, Keith laced his fingers into Shiro’s hair and dragged him up to crash their lips together. “I cannot believe you,” Keith angled his hips, causing friction between them that was not meant to extinguish the mood.

“Yes you can,” Shiro laughed, running his hands down Keith’s sides and taking a hold on his hips again. “Now, Allura says you have work to do.”

“Hmmm…” Keith hooked his legs over Shiro’s hips to anchor their bodies together. “If you help me with my work…” He pulled Shiro back to his lips, leaving his thought open-ended and rolling them over again. “This then that?” Keith flicked a finger between them and then toward his abandoned tablet, quirking an eyebrow at Shiro’s playful smile. When Shiro nodded, Keith dipped back down to kiss him, ready to ignore all of his responsibilities for at least another hour.

* * *

 

One minute was all it took for both Pidge and Matt to appear in Shiro’s path, cutting off his beeline towards his bedroom. They were both grinning, arms crossed over their chests and apparently armed with one thousand questions and even more teasing remarks. Holding up a hand, Shiro failed to control his own grin. “Hey, I need a shower and a change of clothes so we can get to this thing.” He tossed tickets and press passes to Matt and Pidge, watching them exchange looks. “My boyfriend gifted us those, so you both better be on your best behavior. Now shut up and let me shower.”

Listening to the twin cries of congratulations, Shiro set Keith’s tablet on his bed, his own bag on the floor and stripped out of yesterday’s clothes. Tossing the crumpled pile in his hamper, Shiro hurried for the quiet of his shower, pausing briefly in front of his mirror.

His chest was littered with small bruises, his hips showing bruises that were unmistakably shaped like Keith’s fingers. None of the marks hurt, but Shiro ran his fingers over them with reverence, remembering the beauty of each act that brought them into existence. He was Keith’s now and Keith was his, and no matter how much teasing he received from his favorite set of instigating siblings, nothing could change the level of happiness taking over his entire being.

Hopping into the shower, Shiro let the first burst of cold water flow over his body. His mind flipped through options of what to wear and then immediately returned to the image of Keith pressed close to his side, listening intently as Shiro described the adjustments he was making to the proposed plans on Keith’s tablet. A sense of pride washed over Shiro as he recalled Keith’s wide eyes and enthusiastic encouragement, pushing Shiro to make every change he could think of.

In the end, they had run out of time and Keith had forwarded all of Shiro’s notes and diagrams through to the studio’s design and engineering team indicating that there would be more to come in the next twenty-four hours. Keith hadn’t let Shiro see the email he sent, which had left Shiro nervous about exactly how Keith had described Shiro’s input in the process.

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, Shiro acknowledged the excitement and sense of purpose that the small project had brought to him. Unlike the mundane projects he tackled at work every day, adding his knowledge and skill to such a huge endeavor gave him a certain level of pride. Sure, the creation of Voltron’s robots for use in a movie wasn’t going to change the world, but Shiro’s additions and changes would certainly make the robots sturdier and safer for those who would be using the life-sized versions.

His head was still reeling from Keith’s reveal that there would indeed be life-sized robots and not just CG versions. Keith had merely shrugged when Shiro had asked about the necessity of actual giant robots, stating that it had been at the director’s request that they be created. Shiro knew of Kolivan from his major action sci-fi movies, including his creation of an elaborate set in the middle of a desert with an artificial asteroid field created through the use of magnets. It wasn’t farfetched that Kovilan would want huge robots to work with and Shiro had stopped questioning the request, enjoying the opportunity to contribute to their development and creation.

His heart began to pick up its pace again, knowing that he had potentially influenced the project in a significant way. Shiro had always spoken of lofty goals to accomplish great achievements in his life, but instead he had accepted his fate as another office worker, relegated to life chained to a desk. In what was really a brief moment, Keith had given Shiro an opportunity to do something bigger and bolder, taking a chance on the faith that Keith had always had in Shiro. This thought also made Shiro’s heart jump in his chest and he pondered for a second as to whether happiness could be dangerous to his heart’s health. Laughing out loud about that idea, Shiro shut off his shower. He toweled off his hair and body, tossing his towel aside and pulling on a clean set of boxers. Shiro nearly jumped out of his skin when his bathroom door flew open.

“Get dressed, damnit,” Matt demanded, grabbing Shiro’s arm and yanking him back into the room. “And then we want details!”

“Not all of the details!” Pidge yelled from outside of Shiro’s bedroom door, clearly trying to prevent herself from accidentally seeing Shiro in a state of undress that Matt seemed unconcerned about.

“I want _all_ the details,” Matt cackled, shoving Shiro into his closet and throwing himself across the bed. “Hurry up! We have to see your boyfriend! It’s only right that we get to tease him too!”

From his place inside his closet, Shiro rubbed a hand against his cheek marveling at the ache there. His smile had been a near constant fixture since his first sight of Keith behind the table at the bookstore and he couldn’t stop his feet from doing a happy hop. Yanking a pair of jeans from the closest hanger, he shoved them on, snagging a second pair in his hand. They had made plans for Shiro to spend the night in Keith’s room again and this time Shiro was not going to come home in the same set of clothes.

Bracing himself for the tandem teasing of the Holts, Shiro stepped out of his closet. At his current level of happiness, he could handle anything his friends threw at him. Laughing as comments started flying in his direction, Shiro shoved extra clothes in his duffle bag and let his mind wander back to the plans stowed on Keith’s tablet and the addictive feeling of Keith’s body against his own.

* * *

 

“It’s packed,” Allura noted, not looking back to Keith or Coran as she peered out of the cracked door of the back office. The line snaked through the store in a winding route, the noise of people filling the high-ceilinged bookstore to the brim. Allura was scanning the space she could see, her eyes narrowing and a finger flicking in Coran’s direction.

Too nervous to care about what Allura was seeing, Keith spun in circles on a stool at the back of the office. The manager had called Allura during their drive to the store and insisted that they enter from the back in order not to incite a riot. His words had sounded stressed and had immediately hiked Keith’s nerves to a painful prickle beneath his skin. The prickle grew to a full fire when Allura had covered her phone, angling it to show Coran something that Keith couldn’t see from his own seat. Coran had forced a glass of dark alcohol into his hand and suggested he drink it before they exited the car.

Keith tried to ignore the way Allura and Coran were currently pressed together, voices tipped low and eyes glancing back at Keith as they conversed. He had already endured Allura’s scoffing remarks about letting Shiro do his work on the robot notes and had also silently prayed his way through Coran’s unneeded lecture about safe sexual practices. After the call from the store’s manager, they had huddled together whispering words that Keith wasn’t meant to hear. Keith couldn’t have scripted a more embarrassing and awkward car ride if he had written it himself and in response had downed a second drink. His head wasn’t one hundred percent clear due to this decision, but with the worried expressions on his team’s faces, he wasn’t positive that was a bad thing.

“Do I want to know?” Keith asked, spinning to face his back toward Coran and Allura and his eyes trailing over a poster for an old book series about wizards. He remembered being compared to the author, something about being less problematic or some other shit, and he found himself wondering if she even knew who he was. His purposely distracted mind caused him to miss whatever answer Allura or Coran had given him, and he jumped when a set of hands landed on his shoulders.

“Keith,” Allura gracefully sat on the stool in front of him, devoid of the fidgeting Keith couldn’t prevent in his own hands. “There are far more people than we expected out there. It seems this bookstore may have been a little overzealous in their plight to make money off of this event. I’ve had them queue the line first in hopes of clearing out some of the crowd, but we will have to be very controlled in the question and answer portion of the afternoon. We’ll check in once you get through the line and see how your voice is doing, okay?”

Admiring how calm Allura was being, considering the anger Keith could see flashing in her eyes, Keith nodded. They had been working together long enough that Keith knew there was something else she wasn’t telling him. Narrowing his eyes, Keith pushed to his feet. “Who’s out there?” He knew her trepidation wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t bad news and his stomach churned in a mixture of alcohol and anxiety.

“Keith…” Coran warned, stepping in front of Keith’s path and preventing him from looking out of the door himself. “I’ll tell you,” Coran waved a hand at Allura’s wordless objection, “but first I want you to concentrate on how happy you were when you came down to the lobby this morning. And I want you to remember that Shiro is out there and so are your friends… and so is an entire store full of people who support you…”

“Zarkon,” Keith growled, not needing to see anymore to know exactly who had decided to plague his event with his menacing presence. The reporter (if one could even call the rat of a tabloid’s front pages a reporter) had spent most of Keith’s career trying to tear him down despite never being able to get a direct rise out of Keith. Blood boiled in Keith’s face, his hands clenching tightly into fists against his sides. “Why?” he spoke through gritted teeth, eyes blind to the room around him.

“My guess is the allure of your story with Shiro.” Coran shrugged a shoulder in Allura’s direction, an acknowledgement that he wasn’t adhering to whatever signals she was giving him. “Don’t give into him, no matter what he says, and we’ll be right here with you.”

“I-” Keith snapped his mouth shut when the office door banged open, revealing the flushed face of the store manager. Pushing down his desire to strangle the gangly-limbed man in front of him, Keith squared his shoulders and let Allura press a firm hand to his back. He hadn’t let Zarkon get to him in five years and there was no reason to start now. Nodding once, Keith let himself be pushed forward into the welcoming cheers of his fans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'ed so the mistakes are all mine!


	8. Heroes and Villians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can come to my house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no comments. 
> 
> But I welcome comments. This week has been rough, I'm glad this update was already prepped to go. If anyone has kind words about this story, I could really, really use to hear them. 
> 
> Thank you to every one who has followed this and has supported it! You are all the best!
> 
> Come hang with me on Twitter or Tumblr! I don't bite, even when asked to!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

Two hundred and sixty people had crossed in front of Keith’s table. By the time the end of the line was in his sight, Keith had nearly cried with relief, his hand throbbing from the amount of signatures he had placed in each book. Thirty one people had made a joke about him getting a stamp, over half of them had purchased a book and a promotional poster to be signed, and almost every single person had wanted a selfie.

The highlight of the endless nightmare had been Shiro’s bright smile, his arms completely devoid of anything to be signed and instead filled with extra bottles of water, a hot cup of coffee and a single bar of Keith’s favorite chocolate. Matt and Pidge had also appeared carrying gifts, in the form of a pad for Keith’s chair (which he immediately put to use with an appreciate sigh that made Pidge giggle) and a set of pens which were supposed to prevent hand cramps. Keith had managed to keep himself from tearing up from their thoughtfulness and had blushed when Shiro had blown him a subtle kiss while Matt catcalled under his breath.

Even Zarkon, with his judgmental frown and passive-aggressive request for an autograph hadn’t been able to remove the happiness brought on by Shiro. The interaction had been brief and Zarkon hadn’t said more than five words, leaving Keith with a false sense of security about the reminder of the afternoon. The back of his mind told him to tread lightly, as did Allura’s warning whispers in his ear, but Keith opted to concentrate on the sound of Shiro’s laughter lifting over the group of people settling into chairs around him. He let his shoulders relax when he saw Zarkon disappear toward the back, and Shiro along with Matt and Pidge take seats at the very front.

At Allura’s direction, Keith read the same paragraphs that he had read aloud in Pidge’s store. Then, there had been a sense of melancholy still attached to those words, the remaining feelings Keith had about his characters’ fates were prominent in the emotions he had conveyed in his reading. Now, his reading of the same words was changed by his knowledge of the story he had begun in the early hours of the morning with Shiro sleeping by his side and his mind ready to give his characters some hope.

His audience noticed the change, latching onto the way Keith closed the book with a knowing smile and surging into asking questions that left Keith dodging spoilers with an elegance that he had perfected over the last few years. He found himself laughing at the groans coming from the group and winking in Shiro’s direction more times than was probably strictly appropriate. The question and answer session was only supposed to last for an hour, but Keith brushed Allura off and let it continue, allowing the fans to continue tossing out theories and questions and enjoying the easy flow of the interaction between them.

His regret was immediate when Zarkon moved from his hidden place at the back of the seated group. Bracing himself for whatever might come, Keith refused to look in Shiro’s direction or over his shoulders when Allura and Coran moved closer to him.

Shiro noticed the change in Keith’s stature, worry sinking into his stomach as he slowly turned to survey the faces behind him. The afternoon had been incredibly fun, despite the number of people taking up Keith’s attention, and Shiro had found that he loved watching Keith work. The quiet, glasses-wearing Keith typing away to craft his story was different from the confident, calm Keith who volleyed with the waves of admirers and fans, but both were equally as beautiful. Shiro hadn’t thought it possible to fall further in love with Keith, but this afternoon had proven that there was no limit to the depths at which Shiro was willing to fall. Eyes scanning the room around him, Shiro’s gaze latched onto the aggressive smirk of a man too large for the space in which he stood.

“Your fans are too kind to you, Keith Kogane.” Zarkon’s voice boomed through the room, making a few people jump and more than one person begin to shift uncomfortably. Neither Keith nor any one of his official sponsors or accounts had ever commented on the antagonistic ways of Zarkon and his publications, but most long-time fans were aware of Zarkon’s continuous desire to destroy the franchise Keith had built. No one knew why, but there was enough internet speculation on the subject to fuel multiple blogs and many, many hours of YouTube conspiracy videos.

Seizing the opportunity afforded to him by Keith’s silence, Zarkon continued. “No one in this room is going to point out that you purposely hid your first name for years?” Zarkon pierced the people around him with a cold stare, one eyebrow raised to intimidate them into silence. “No one is going to point out that an official release date hasn’t been announced for book seven? Or that you are distracting from this fact with your publicity stunt of a romance with a _criminal_?” Zarkon held a magazine in his hands, acting as if he was studying the cover waiting for Keith to answer.

“Shut up.” Keith spoke before he could stop himself, catching the next words behind his teeth when he noticed Zarkon’s pleased smile. Trying to steady himself, Keith felt Allura’s hand on his elbow and concentrated on the pressure of her hold. “The next release date hasn’t been announced yet and I will not spoil any plans in place for that release because of the demands of someone who _pretends_ not to like my books.” Keith continued to sit forward in his seat, tense and ready for a fight, even after the crowd reacted with murmured support.

The word criminal was burning his ears, but he forced the thought away. “My name is inconsequential and my love life is none of your concern. Thank you for your questions. Now, on to someone whose face I can stand to look at.” It was the most biting comment Keith had ever allowed himself to make in Zarkon’s direction and it did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

Silence fell, hanging heavy and weighing upon Keith’s shoulders. He had always been kind, never brash, in front of his fans and he could feel them studying him. Shiro’s eyes were trained on the side of his face, his expression unreadable as Keith tried to gather himself.

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” Zarkon commented, arms crossing over his chest as he glared daggers at Keith. “Tell me, if this man and you really reunited after years of not seeing each other, then how did Takashi end up with a matching prosthetic? Seems a little… coincidental to me.”

“I didn’t know.” This time Keith let his voice slip. It was low and under his breath, but he could feel the shame building inside of him. When Zarkon made a judgmental noise, Keith cracked his neck and lifted his head. “I didn’t know about his arm,” he spoke loudly, addressing every other set of eyes in the room except for Zarkon’s. “Do you want to know why Takashi has a prosthetic? I’ll tell you.” Batting away Allura’s hand as it moved towards his shoulder, Keith stood.

“When I was little, my father was a firefighter,” Keith didn’t look up as he talked, pacing the carpet in front of him to expel the nervous energy of revealing a personal piece of himself. He had vowed a long time ago to let his stories stand on their own, without his background or personal life to fuel their success. He was about to violate that conviction.

“There was this man… a dispatcher… who only had one hand. Because of that, he couldn’t fight fires like the other guys. Instead, he handled all of the dispatch work and made sure everyone was safe and where they needed to be.” Keith paused to take a ragged breath, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the people who had grown up knowing exactly who he was talking about. “He always said he wished he could be a hero too and my father always told him he was… but he didn’t believe it. Takashi has a prosthetic because everyone deserves to believe that they can be a hero and I wanted everyone who has ever doubted that to see themselves in my favorite character.” Feeling the tears threatening to pool in his eyes, Keith shrugged a shoulder. “Besides, the prosthetics are completely different arms.” He let himself smile when the crowd chuckled, peeking up to see the tears on the faces around him.

“Hm, false nobility somehow suits you.” Zarkon took a step forward, his hip knocking into a small woman seated next to him making her mutter angrily under her breath. “If you are so worried about this supposed representation, then why cast someone to play this character who doesn’t have a prosthetic of his own? And why are you trying to pass off this man,” Zarkon waved his magazine pointedly in Shiro’s direction, “as inspiration for heroes when he is nothing but a villain.”

Keith saw the shift in the crowd, the moment when they went from being enraptured with his personal story to questioning his intentions. He watched as eyes moved to study the back of Shiro’s head, the stares looking for answers that Shiro’s shadowed face wasn’t providing. It made his stomach turn to lead, his feet feeling stuck in place as his brain tried to form an answer.

From his seat, Shiro desperately wanted to spring to Keith’s side and protect him from this unwarranted attack. Shiro could ignore the comments being made about himself, there were decisions he had made that he wasn’t proud of, but something deep inside of him knew that Keith wouldn’t judge him. All those fears had disappeared throughout their night together and Shiro knew that if Keith asked, he would tell him the truth without hesitation.

What scared him was the way Keith was currently floundering, Keith’s calm exterior breaking under the weight of the silence and the accusing glare of Zarkon. Keith was honest and noble and none of his intentions should ever be questioned the way this horrid man was questioning them. He didn’t care if his character was under attack, he wanted Keith to fight back on his own behalf and defend his decisions without feeling the need to defend Shiro as well. Shiro wanted to somehow convey this to Keith, but Keith refused to look in his direction.

Keith knew exactly why he had insisted that Hunk play Shiro. He had met the actor himself, heard his story and his testimony and had known there would be no one better for the role. Answering the question posed at him now felt wrong, the answer being far more invasive into Hunk’s life than Keith was comfortable with. He couldn’t think beyond Zarkon’s accusations toward Shiro, leaving him speechless, useless, and furious.

All the words Keith had written, all the words he had ever spoken, were failing to become successful sentences in his mind and the longer the questions went unanswered, the more uncomfortable the room became. Zarkon was still staring at him, callous smirk growing wider as Keith continued to fail to defend himself. “You insufferable, untalented, good for nothing-”

“His sister has a prosthetic leg, you asshat!”

The declaration broke through the beginning of Keith’s ill-advised string of insults, causing his head to whip around to find the source. Standing on a chair in the front row was Pidge, her face bright red and her hands balled into fists.

“Hunk’s little sister lost her leg to bone cancer. Anyone who has ever heard of Hunk knows that. He has a foundation to fund research for childhood cancers for quiznak’s sake!” Pidge threw her arms in the air and Keith couldn’t help his nervous chuckle at her use of his invented cuss word. “So, yeah, I think someone wanting to play a role, the role of his sister’s favorite character of all time, and a writer who advocates to let them do that… well that’s pretty damn awesome. So maybe you should just shut your stu-” Matt slapped a hand around Pidge’s mouth, his other arm coming around her waist and pulling her back to her seat. She punched him hard in the arm, but didn’t try to stand back up, her face breaking into a smile when the crowd began to cheer for her.

Keith shot a smug look toward Zarkon. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the real life pilot of the green lion.” He felt his smile become more genuine at Pidge’s shocked look and he didn’t stop himself from laughing when she leapt back onto her chair to give the crowd a bow. His stomach still burned with the rest of Zarkon’s unanswered questions, his smile faltering as he mulled them over in his mind.

Allura stepped up next to him, waving her arms and begging for quiet. Her head nodded over Keith’s shoulder and when he turned, he watched two sizable police officers take Zarkon by each arm and drag him backwards. The crowd roared with laughter as Zarkon demanded to know why he was being removed and one of the officers accused him of disturbing the peace while the other simply stated, “I don’t like your face.” The magazine in Zarkon’s hand fell to the ground, unnoticed by the people cheering over Zarkon’s removal.

The sound of Allura thanking the fans became nothing more than wordless garble as Keith stared down at the blurry, but recognizable image of Shiro staring at him from the front cover. Without his glasses, Keith couldn’t read the writing, but he would know the choppy layout of Zarkon’s publication anywhere.

His brain had pressed rewind on the last few minutes, forcing him to relive his own reactions and all of Zarkon’s words. In the end, Zarkon may have appeared to be the fool, but he had succeeded. He had broken through Keith’s defenses by using Shiro, causing Keith’s temper to flare publically and visibly shaking Keith with false accusations and questions Keith couldn’t answer. Feeling the realization of possible consequences to his own lack of action burst into his mind, Keith turned on his heel and fled.

Around them people were moving from their seats, talking about Keith’s epic clapbacks and swooning over how kind and considerate Keith was to both Hunk and his father’s friend. Pidge had gained a group of her own fans, all of them flocking around her and begging for more stories about how she knew Keith.

No one approached Shiro, although plenty of people were glancing nervously in his direction. His gaze was trained on Keith’s fleeing back, his mind screaming at him to chase Keith into the room where he had disappeared. Mindlessly, he retrieved the magazine Zarkon had dropped, feeling his stomach lurch at the headline.

“Come with me,” Coran requested, standing in front of Shiro and staying patient until Shiro acknowledged his presence. Coran looked concerned and tired, his age showing for the first time since Shiro had met him. Unable to do anything other than slightly nod, Shiro felt Matt pat his shoulder and heard him whisper “we’ll wait” before following Coran toward the door where Keith had vanished.

“Fuck him!” Keith shouted, fist colliding with the wall and leaving his previously numb hand stinging with pain. The anger he had failed to control was firing within him, his inability to protect Shiro from hearing Zarkon’s hate making him see red. If Zarkon had somehow convinced Shiro that Keith’s feelings weren’t real, if Zarkon insisted on continuing his crusade to discredit Keith through Shiro, Keith was going to find the man and kill him personally.

“Keith.” Shiro saw the strength in which Keith had punched the cinder block wall, wincing when Keith shook his hand with his redden knuckles on full display. He had wanted to punch the smirk straight off Zarkon’s face when he had been talking, but now seeing how upset Keith was, Shiro wanted to do far worse. When Keith whirled around, Shiro saw the shame painted over Keith’s face, his heart ripping in his chest with every tear rolling down Keith’s cheeks.

“It’s not true,” Keith choked, slumping down on a stool. “It’s not a publicity stunt. I didn’t know about your arm. Pidge didn’t tell me. Six months after you left, Pidge stopped talking about you altogether, I guess she thought it was better for me. Then the Holts moved up here and… well you already know I am bad at keeping in touch! I didn’t know, you have to believe me. And I wouldn’t use you like that if I did know!” Aware that he was shouting, Keith dropped his head into his hands. The sobs wouldn’t stop coming and he tangled his fingers into his hair, pulling hard. “I love you, Shiro. That’s not fake. Please believe me, that it’s not fake.”

Falling onto his knees, Shiro reached up to pull Keith’s hands from his face, guiding them towards Shiro’s mouth so he could kiss Keith’s knuckles. “Keith, you have to know I know that. This… between us… it’s existed before all of this. And you and me… we’ll exist long after all of this. I love you… I trust you… I just got you, I’m not letting you go. And…” Shiro choked on his words when Keith looked at him, “I promise to tell you everything. I won’t lie to you, just… give me a chance…” Catching Keith as he fell forward, Shiro let himself be tackled onto the ground, his own tears running down his face as Keith stifled his cries into the side of Shiro’s neck. Shiro felt in his heart that there was more to this story beyond even what the most avid fans knew; a history between Keith and Zarkon that Shiro didn’t understand, but that could wait as could any of the explanations Shiro had to hopefully defend himself. Holding Keith close, Shiro let himself cry, only trying to sit them both up when the office door opened.

“I’m sorry,” Allura spoke with sincere concern, her eyes swimming with emotion that Shiro couldn’t read. It was undeniable how much she openly cared about Keith and Shiro felt a surge of gratitude run through him. “Keith, the concierge at the hotel called me… there are paparazzi swarming the front of the hotel. This is unprecedented territory for us and it’s no question that it must be Zarkon’s doing.”

Sitting up, Keith wiped a hand over his face, his shoulders rolling forward in defeat. Being a famous author never led to more than a few overzealous fans who wanted pictures on the street, he was never paparazzi fodder outside of Zarkon’s bizarre obsession. His brain was too overwhelmed to contemplate any solutions.

“You can come to my house,” Shiro suggested, arm moving to cover Keith’s shoulders. “I have enough space for all three of you and I’m sure we can scrounge up extra clothes…” Darting glances between Keith and Allura, Shiro tried to quiet his own hope. The idea of having Keith taking up space in Shiro’s home created a silver lining to the situation that had Shiro praying they would say yes.

“Well…” Keith studied Allura as he spoke, “My tablet went with Shiro and all my other important belongings are in my bag,” nodding toward the tattered laptop bag, Keith turned hopefully toward Shiro. “I’m fine with that plan.” His brain told him he was more than fine with that plan, and Keith felt his cheeks turn red. Even with all the negative thoughts burning inside him, Keith couldn’t make himself put distance between himself and Shiro.

“Coran and I have everything except clothing,” Allura said, looking in Coran’s direction as he strode back into the room. “I guess… if you are willing to have us… that is certainly a better option than anything I can currently think of.”

“Then it’s settled,” Shiro stood, pulling Keith to his feet beside him. Later, they could talk about what had happened. Maybe Keith would be willing to explain Zarkon’s bizarre behavior (if he could) and Shiro would be brave enough to explain the implications of the magazine headline currently shoved in his back pocket. For now, Shiro was concentrated on making sure Keith was safe. Ignoring Coran and Allura’s presence, Shiro guided Keith to lean against him. “How about it? Can I take you home, baby?” He snorted into Keith’s hair when Keith elbowed him in the side, pressing a kiss to the side of Keith’s head.

Across the room, Keith could hear Allura and Coran whispering, catching only a few words which made his stomach continue to feel sour. He knew they were trying to protect him and for the time being, he was willing to let them do so. Tucking himself tighter into Shiro’s side, he let his mind click off as Shiro, Allura and Coran devised a plan to get the hell out of the bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per the usual, please forgive the rampant mistakes :(


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My hardened criminal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left really sweet and supportive comments on the last chapter. You made last week so much better, you have no idea!! 
> 
> Please come visit me on Twitter or Tumblr :)  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
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In the end getting out of the bookstore was far easier than Shiro had expected it to be. With the help of Pidge and Matt leading the most ridiculously disorganized Voltron fan cheer, the paparazzi in front of the store were completely overwhelmed by the swarm of nerds charging at them. Allura had called for a couple of less conspicuous cars, shoving Coran and Keith into one of them and dragging Shiro into the back of another. Both drivers were tipped handsomely for their discretion and they all arrived at Shiro’s front door without any sign of being followed.

Shiro’s hands were slightly shaking as he tried to unlock his front door, his mind racing over any possible flaws currently wrecking the first impression of his home. When he pushed the door open, all worries fled his mind as the smell of turkey took over. “What in the…” Shiro questioned, jumping when Sam and Colleen Holt appeared in the hallway.

“Keith!” Colleen smiled, stepping forward to throw her arms around Keith’s shoulders, ignoring his startled squeak. Sam joined them immediately, wrapping his arms around both Colleen and Keith and shouting his own jovial greeting.

Years had passed since Keith had seen either of the Holt parents, but their hugs still felt as comforting as they had when he was a kid. They had been the closest he had ever had to parents and Keith let himself fall into their embraces, foregoing any sense of embarrassment with the way they were commenting on how he had changed. Smiling, he returned their hugs, twisting to hug each of them in turn.

Shiro saw the exact moment Keith relaxed into the hug, Keith’s smile growing fond and his shoulders releasing their stiff posture. He left Keith hugged and coddled, while Shiro toed off his shoes and lead Allura and Coran down the hall.

“There are two extra bedrooms,” Shiro explained, flipping on the light in the guest bedroom on the first floor. “One here, and one upstairs on Matt’s floor.”

“I’ll take the one upstairs,” Allura declared. “Coran sleeps like the dead and won’t hear… any…” she left the rest of her statement unsaid, a knowing eyebrow raised in Shiro’s direction. Feeling the back of his neck heat up, Shiro walked out of the room, forcing himself to ignore Coran’s laughter.

Walking up the steps, Shiro paused to look over the banister at Keith being dragged into the kitchen by Matt’s parents. Keith looked flustered himself, but he also looked happy without any signs of tension in his face. Shiro hated the idea of spoiling that with talks of anything serious and he hung his head as he returned to his trek upstairs.

Opening the first door at the top of the stairs, Shiro waved a hand inside. “This bedroom is little bigger, but you’ll have to share a bathroom with Matt. I apologize now on his behalf.” Shiro smiled good-naturedly as Allura chuckled. “Well, I will let you get settled. We can figure out the clothes issue-”

“Shiro,” Allura cut him off, laying her bag on the blue quilt and folding her hands in front of her waist. “I need you to tell me the truth. Keith loves you and as far as I can tell, he has no intention of ever stopping. So I need to know… Zarkon’s headline… is it true?”

In another life, Shiro believed Allura could have easily been a diplomat with her straight forward and respectful approach to all difficult subjects. Despite having ample time to do so in their shared car ride, she had waited until they were alone to ask this question and Shiro respected her for that. Steadying himself with a hand on the door frame, Shiro shook his head. “It’s not what you think, I promise. And if you want to know the real story, I will tell you myself. But please… let me tell Keith first.” Making himself maintain eye contact, Shiro waited for Allura’s quiet nod.

“I believe that you love him as much as he loves you, and therefore I will protect you both as best as I can. You have Keith’s trust, which is hard to come by, and so you will have mine.” From inside her bag, Allura’s phone began to ring and she dismissed Shiro with another nod of her head.

He made it two steps down the staircase before he found himself pressing his back against the wall and begging his mind not to panic. Keith would understand, Shiro had to believe that. All he had to do was find the courage to tell him everything. Hearing his name called from his kitchen, Shiro pushed away his anxiety and headed down to join in the chaos brought on by the return of Matt and Pidge.

* * *

 

Leaning back in his chair, Keith contemplated unhooking the button of his very tight jeans. Colleen and Sam had prepared an entire Thanksgiving-style feast, happily informing Allura and Coran that it had been Keith’s favorite as a kid, and Keith had set about trying to consume every bit of food presented on the table. He had even accepted a mashed potato eating contest with Matt, both of them laughing as they shoved large spoonfuls in their mouths and Matt nearly expelling potatoes out of his nose in the process.

Dinner had been filled with the retellings of old stories, some told by Shiro, Matt and Pidge while others were told by Sam and Colleen with distinctly parental points of view. Allura and Coran had spent the entirety of the meal laughing and Keith had joined in, letting himself get wrapped up in the feeling of being with the people who mattered the most in his life.

He let himself forget the events of the afternoon, let his mind slip blissfully into the past as his lifelong friends talked of their childhood adventures. He felt sleepy and content, resting on Shiro’s shoulder as Colleen described the time they had attempted to build a treehouse in the backyard and nearly ended up in the hospital.

“If you had just listened to me!” Pidge smacked Matt with the back of her hand. “I told you that the supports were uneven!” She squealed when Matt caught her in a headlock, punching his side and ducking away. “Hey! Don’t pick on the green lion!” Shooting a wink in Keith’s direction, Pidge sat up and shoved at Matt again.

“Oh! Speaking of!” Matt leaned over the table and Keith grinned.

“The blue lion,” Keith said before Matt could ask the question, bursting out laughing when Matt groaned dramatically and the rest of the table collapsed in hysterical laughter.

“I knew it!” Shiro shouted, fist pumping with his arm not held by Keith. “As soon as you said Pidge was green, I knew Matt was blue. Thinks he is smooth and flirts with anything that moves? That’s definitely Matt.”

“You’re dead Shirogane,” Matt growled, filling a spoon with peas and aiming it at Shiro’s head. Pulling it back, he released the tiny green weapons in a shower across the table.

“Matthew Holt!” Colleen scolded, looking affronted. Next to her, Sam slyly loaded a spoon full of mashed potatoes and splatted it onto his son’s cheek. “Samuel Holt!” Colleen smacked her husband across the back of the head, her jaw dropping when a splash of gravy smacked her cheek. Turning slowly, Colleen settled a murderous look in her daughter’s direction.

The absolute destruction of Shiro’s dining room look under five minutes and only ended when Colleen shouted in the most mom voice Keith had ever heard. His cheeks hurt from smiling, his breath coming out in short puffs as he examined the disaster they created. Even Allura and Coran looked relaxed and happy, making Keith feel even lighter.

“Clean it up,” Colleen ordered, walking from the dining room with her smile poorly hidden. Sam followed behind her, carrying a dish and pretending to whimper like a sad puppy. They all smiled at each other when Colleen’s laughter floated out from the kitchen.

“Come on,” Allura encouraged, picking up several empty dishes and stacking them in her arms. “The faster it is cleaned up, the faster we can shower.” Running a finger over the edge of the gravy bowl, Allura smeared it down Keith’s cheek. “Except you, perhaps you and Shiro should take your leave now. Shower and then you can scrub the walls while the rest of us find a way to get clean.”

Before Keith could respond, Shiro was tugging at his wrist, pulling him out of the dining room as Pidge shouted at them not to use all the hot water. Keith felt the blush creeping over his cheeks when Shiro winked at him, letting himself be led down the hall and into Shiro’s bedroom.

“You have mashed potatoes in your hair,” Shiro turned to pluck at the clumps of white creating knots at the top of Keith’s head. “And a pea in your ear,” he laughed, pinching the green ball from where it lay and holding it up for Keith to see. “You’re a very dirty boy.”

Keith choked at Shiro’s words, eyes going wide and waiting expectantly for Shiro to realize what he said. He watched that realization wash over Shiro’s face, smirking when Shiro whispered “oh my god” in total horror. Deciding to make Shiro’s embarrassment worse, Keith hooked a finger in Shiro’s belt buckle and pulled him toward the bathroom. “Guess you should clean me up, big guy.” He laughed and tripped over his own feet when Shiro’s entire face flushed red.

Trying not to die from his own embarrassment, Shiro reached around Keith to turn on the water in his shower. The glass box wasn’t huge, but a quick estimation convinced Shiro they would both fit. Keeping his eyes trained on Keith’s face, Shiro lifted the hem of his own shirt, peeling it off of his body and dropping it into the bathtub where the food mess would be contained. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the button of his jeans, Shiro let them drop, noticing Keith’s eyes following his every move. With a complete lack of grace, Shiro yanked off his socks and underwear, brushing past Keith and stepping into the shower. “Coming?” he asked, raising his face to let the water run over him, hands trailing through his hair and his smile spreading at Keith’s small gasp.

Feeling his brain kick back into gear, Keith quickly shed his own clothes, tossing them on top of Shiro’s and following Shiro into the shower. He let his fingers walk over Shiro’s wet torso, tracing the flexing muscles and finding their place on Shiro’s hips. Pressing his lips to Shiro’s shoulder, Keith let the rest of the world fall away, willing to fall into Shiro and forget about everything else.

* * *

 

Their shower lasted until Matt pounded on the door, shouting about the unneeded free porn soundtrack everyone in the house was being treated to. They had thought they were being quiet, both of them looking horrified as Matt’s accusation thundered through the bathroom. Wrapping wet arms around each other, Shiro and Keith laughed into each other’s shoulders while Shiro turned off the water and pushed the door open.

They exchanged blushing smiles while they dried off, stalling their return to the dining room for as long as possible by goofing around with each other as they went. Shiro lead the way back into the bedroom, finding himself bouncing on his toes as he opened the door to retrieve sweatpants for both of them. Turning around, his stomach dropped when he spied Keith looking down at the magazine Shiro had forgotten on his bed.

Holding his towel around his waist with one hand, Keith laid the other on the glossy cover of Zarkon’s prized trash. The picture was unmistakably Shiro’s face, despite the black eye and bloodied cheek, and the headline was brazen in violent red. He couldn’t reconcile the image in front of him with the man he had made love to only moments before.

“Here,” Shiro placed a pair of sweats in Keith’s hand, not looking at Keith’s face and stepping away to slip on his own pants. He threw a t-shirt on the bed in front of Keith and then pulled another over his own head. Maybe he was stalling, maybe he was waiting to see if Keith would ask directly, but mostly Shiro was trying not to vomit.

When the silence continued to stretch between them, Keith slowly pulling on Shiro’s clothes and looking adorably small in Shiro’s oversized t-shirt, Shiro found that he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “Do you want to know?”

“No,” Keith said, wincing at his quick answer. “I mean,” sighing, he sat on the bed, shoving the magazine away. “I know that Zarkon is full of shit and you don’t have to tell me anything just because of him. I trust you, with or without explanation.” He found himself on his back, staring up at Shiro whose eyes were watery with building tears. “Hey, Shiro, I mean it.” Keith kissed both of Shiro’s cheeks, ignoring the weight of Shiro crushing him into the mattress.

“I know you do.” Shiro kissed Keith before rolling off of him, back landing on the bed and his eyes staring unfocused at the ceiling. “Still…” the word strangled Shiro’s throat, all of the worries wrapping themselves tightly around Shiro’s mind and stealing his resolve not to cry. This was why Shiro had avoided contacting Keith for all of these years and now the moment was unavoidable.

Shifting, Keith sat up on the bed, tapping Shiro’s shoulder and encouraging him to lay in Keith’s lap. Gently, Keith ran his fingertips through Shiro’s hair trying to coax him into calmness. His own stomach was a hellscape of knots and worry, but right now, his feelings didn’t matter. Whatever had happened was obviously weighing heavily on Shiro’s heart and Keith only wanted to concentrate on helping Shiro get beyond those feelings. He waited until Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed to lean down and place another kiss on Shiro’s forehead.

“When we got to college, it was… not like anyone really expected.” Shiro let the memories flicker behind his eyelids, giant stone buildings, big groups of students, and the horrid smell of the freshman dorms. “I guess we were all naïve, thinking that studying and wrestling in college wouldn’t be that much different than high school. We were excited about freedom and being on our own, forgetting that meant… we were also alone when it came to making decisions.”

Snuggling his head into Keith’s thigh, Shiro bit the inside of his cheek. He was stalling, delaying the inevitable because once the story was out, it would be Keith’s decision about what to do with the information. Vaguely, Shiro considered suggesting tabling the discussion until they took the time to help with the cleanup downstairs, but when he opened his eyes, the quiet reassurance he found on Keith’s face pushed him to go on.

“Some of the older wrestlers, they were involved in this group.” _Not that anyone could call it a group_ , Shiro thought bitterly, remembering the shady approach of the senior wrestlers after their first practice. “They wrestled… well fought really… on weekend evenings in the basement of this country club. I went once, because Adam wanted to go, but… I don’t know, something didn’t feel right. Matt had refused to go and when I told him about the setup, well let’s just say he was… adamant that he was right and Adam was wrong.”

Staying silent, Keith kept his facial expression neutral. Shiro was talking in circles and not making a lot of sense, but this had always been Shiro’s way of tackling sensitive subjects. The night Shiro had first admitted to dating Adam, it had taken him forty-five minutes and three bathroom breaks to finally spit out the words. Luckily, Keith had developed a better sense of patience in their years apart, and tolerantly waited for Shiro to get to the point.

“I didn’t go with Adam after that. It became a _thing_ between us, a constant source of strife. I wanted to concentrate on state titles and perfect grades, while Adam was slowly slipping away from me, getting caught up in his world with the upper classmen. We fought all the time and finally… after one heated argument, he left with them, telling me not to be in the room when he got back.” There was a lump forming in the back of Shiro’s throat as he replayed the minutes of that argument in his mind. None of them were unique, except the final one which had ended the only romantic relationship Shiro thought he would ever need.

“Asshole,” Keith muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth to keep himself from going into a tirade about all of Adam’s faults. Scooting down on the bed, Keith rearranged himself so he could lay side by side with Shiro. “I don’t understand how…” His hand laid on Shiro’s prosthetic arm, unsure of what question his mind wanted him to ask first.

“I’m getting there,” Shiro sighed, brushing his fingers over Keith’s cheek. “Instead of doing the smart thing and going to Matt to vent my sorrows, I found consolation in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. I went to the gym, half-wasted and depressed when I overheard two upperclassmen talking about a fight. They were talking about finally having a pansy to step up and how they were positive the guy was a sure thing for betting on his loss.” Shiro closed his eyes again, the sound of the two boys who were supposed to be his teammates still haunting his memories.

“I knew without confirmation that Adam was the guy they were talking about and even though he had walked out on me, the way they were talking, my gut told me it was going to be bad. Adam had gotten himself into whatever the situation was, but I was positive that he didn’t know it. And being me…”

“You ran off to save him,” Keith finished, his words lacking any of the bitterness that he felt in his heart. Of course Shiro would have run off to play hero, it was what Shiro did. “I love you,” was all Keith could think to say, threading his fingers through the fingers of Shiro’s prosthetic hand and squeezing.

Nodding, Shiro swallowed around the still-formed lump in his throat. “I went to the country club and challenged Adam first. He tried to fight me, but I fought dirty and won. So then it was me they were betting on to lose.”

“But you didn’t,” Keith said, his heart trying not to twist at the thought of Shiro being someone else’s hero. Someone who didn’t deserve Shiro at all.

“I didn’t,” Shiro confirmed, trying to read the expression on Keith’s face. “I got this,” Shiro lightly touched the scar on his face, “and these,” he motioned to the scars on his upper body, “from that fight. But I also hurt my arm, fairly badly, but the upperclassmen knew I couldn’t tell anyone about it. They started targeting it in practice, I guess as payback for whatever loses they experienced. I stayed silent, but my arm grew weaker and weaker.”

Extending his prosthetic toward the ceiling, Shiro opened his fist, flexing his fingers and rotating his wrist. “By the time Matt dragged me to the hospital, there was no way they could save my arm, the circulation had been so badly damaged that there was nothing to save.” Dropping his arm to his own waist, Shiro refused to look at Keith. “I stopped wrestling at that point. Adam had already moved out of our dorm and I never spoke to him again. I threw myself into my academic studies, still determined to be the best there since it was all I had left.”

“Shiro,” Keith propped himself up on his elbow, waiting for Shiro to face him. “I… did you honestly think I would be mad?!” He wanted to be understanding, but Keith felt exasperated. “You’ve always done everything at one hundred percent or not at all. You did what you thought was best, you protected someone who maybe didn’t deserve it, but you did it anyway. That is exactly the kind of hero I’ve always known you to be. That’s exactly the hero you’ve always been to me.” A single tear slipped from the corner of Keith’s eye, trailing down his cheek.

Catching Keith’s tear, Shiro wiped it away with his thumb. “I didn’t read that idiot’s article, but there is a chance he got someone to say I was involved with an illegal fighting ring, which technically I was. But jokes on him because that picture he used is from the Halloween when I had Pidge paint me to look like Rocky.” He tried to smile, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“My hardened criminal,” Keith teased, pecking a kiss to the tip of Shiro’s nose. “It would be just like Zarkon to find a tainted source and claim it as fact. I knew from the moment he opened his stupid mouth that he was lying. I never doubted you for a moment, I hope you know that.” Keith’s last word was muffled when Shiro pulled him down to kiss him. Sighing into the kiss, Keith scooted until he was situated between Shiro’s legs, letting the seriousness of their last few minutes fade into the background.

“You know!” The door to the bedroom banged open to reveal Matt with his arms crossed over his chest. “Not only is the entire dining room clean… and all the dishes are done… but everyone has already showered and I’ve lent two strangers my clothes. So how about you two hornballs tuck your dicks away for like an hour or two and come play cards with us… yeah?”

“I think…” Keith shifted, moving his hand behind Shiro’s head and subtly wrapping his fingers around one of the pillows on Shiro’s bed, “that I should pummel the living shit out of your roommate.” Leaping off the bed, Keith lunged toward Matt, smacking him in the head with Shiro’s pillow. Cackling, Keith ran after Matt as he stormed down the hallway, screaming at the top of his lungs for someone to throw him a couch cushion.

Lying on his back, Shiro laughed up at his ceiling, listening to the surprised shouts of everyone in his living room. He had talked to Keith, successfully and without imploding their relationship before it had a chance to flourish. He had revealed his last stupid decision involving Adam and Keith hadn’t reacted in any of the ways Shiro had feared. In fact, Keith had handled the situation better than anyone else had and it made Shiro realize how different his best friend had become over their time apart.

Appearing breathless in the doorway, Keith’s hair hung over his face as he panted. “Come on, Shiro, I need a teammate, I’m dying out there!” With a yelp, Keith dodged the pillow swung at him by a running Pidge, spinning elegantly before throwing himself back toward the madness.

Pushing up from the bed, Shiro snagged another pillow, laughing as he took a hit from Pidge to his face. Pretending to snarl as he charged after her, Shiro dove directly into the pillow fight, shouting about defending Keith’s honor and howling with laughter when Keith came to a stunned stop only to be smacked in the face by Colleen’s throw pillow.

When the pillow fight finally settled and after too many rounds of cards, Shiro and Keith returned to their places on Shiro’s bed, legs tangled and chests pressed together. They exchanged sleepy kisses and drowsy smiles, until they both began to fade toward dreamland.

Shiro’s last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was how much he was going to miss this was Keith left on Monday. Pulling Keith to settle on his chest, Shiro pushed the thought away, determined to savor every second they got to spend together.

Keith’s last thought as he snuggled into Shiro’s embrace was how much he wanted Shiro to ask him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'ed and I'm sorry!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy quiznak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is either a few days late or an hour early, depending on how you look at it. To make up for that, it is a longer chapter. 
> 
> The total chapter count has increased. This chapter is long. No matter how I played with it, I couldn't make this story end in 10 chapters because it wasn't meant to be. So there will be two more. Please keep that in mind at the end of this one so your urge to strangle me will hopefully be less! 
> 
> If you want to hear the Unwritten playlist I listen to while writing this story, please check it out on YouTube! (And if you have suggestions of Sheith songs to add, please let me know!)
> 
> If you want to yell at me, I can be found on Tumblr or Twitter  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

Warmth, wrapped around him and holding him safe, was the first sensation Shiro felt as his mind quietly transitioned from his dream world to the world inside of his bedroom. He couldn’t remember a time when his bed had felt so comfortable, when he had awoken in this specific room with the feeling of comfort so intimately wound around him. With a smile, Shiro turned further onto his side to cuddle Keith tighter to his body.

When they were younger Keith would often crash in Shiro’s bed, preferring the company of Shiro and his grandfather over the noisy multi-bed rooms at the orphanage. Naps after school, sleepovers on weekends, Keith became a constant presence in Shiro’s room and a faithful cuddle buddy. Those memories were innocent in Shiro’s mind, two friends who had always been more comfortable with each other than the rest of the world. Keith had always fired him up and calmed him down in the most beautiful ways.

Then Adam had happened. When Adam became Shiro’s boyfriend, the sleepovers with Keith disappeared. Shiro wasn’t sure if they had ever discussed stopping their habit of sharing a bed, but he remembered all the nights spent tossing and turning, wishing Keith was by his side and drooling on his pillow. He often wondered if Keith missed those nights as well, and he found himself lightly tracing Keith’s cheek bones as he contemplated asking.

Shiro’s heart fluttered in his chest when Keith sighed in his sleep, Shiro’s name slipping sleepily from his lips. Unable to keep himself from leaning forward, Shiro placed a tender kiss to the corner of Keith’s mouth. “Good morning,” he whispered, fingertips still making trails over Keith’s skin.

“Sleep is better with you,” Keith heard himself say the words, his sleep-hazed mind uninhibited in the thoughts it was willing to share. Burying his face in Shiro’s chest, Keith tried to hide his embarrassment over the breathless confession.

“I’ve always slept better with you in my arms,” Shiro admitted, listening to Keith’s breath catch and tightening his hold around Keith’s body. Keith was soft and warm, and Shiro closed his eyes, committing the feeling to memory. “Keith… are pancakes still your favorite?”

An idea had settled in his mind in the twilight of his wakefulness the night before and Shiro had returned to it immediately upon waking. Once, when Keith had spent the night in Shiro’s bed, Shiro had woken up early and snuck downstairs to take over his grandfather’s kitchen. Although his first five pancakes had been regrettably burnt, he had managed to make a stack of passable pancakes by the time Keith had stumbled into the room, rumpled and comfy in the shirt he had borrowed from Shiro.

Seeing Keith in his clothes once again and remembering the way Keith used to curl his knees into Shiro’s shirts as he sat happily devouring breakfast in Shiro’s childhood home had set off a burning need for sappy moments deep inside of Shiro’s soul. He wasn’t sure when he would get another morning with Keith and Shiro intended to make this one count. Pressing a kiss on Keith’s forehead, Shiro nudged him for an answer, laughing when he realized Keith had dozed off again.

“Hmm?” Keith’s question was only a small noise, his face tilting to press his cheek more firmly onto Shiro’s chest. “Pancakaes?” His mind stirred when he realized the extra syllable he added to the word and he immediately groaned when Shiro started laughing.

“I don’t know how to make pancakaes, but pancakes I can offer.” Shiro jumped when Keith bit him just above the nipple. “Hey, don’t start or you’ll starve.” He bit his bottom lip when Keith ventured lower, nipping at a Shiro’s nipple. “Keith…”

“Fine,” Keith conceded, flicking his tongue over Shiro’s nipple just to hear the sharp inhale of Shiro’s breath. “Want help?” He had no desire to climb out of Shiro’s bed or to let Shiro climb out of the bed, but if that was the only option to stay close to Shiro then he would sacrifice the extra sleep.

“Actually…” Shiro felt his cheeks blush, his eyes focusing on his headboard instead of Keith’s face as Keith finally moved to look at him. “I had this idea… it’s cheesy but… can I bring you breakfast here? In bed, I mean.” At some point Shiro should have asked Matt for lessons on being smoother or at least slightly less embarrassingly awkward than his normal state of being. He couldn’t make eye contact with Keith, not wanting to see the potential face his boyfriend was making.

“You want to make me breakfast in bed?” Keith’s voice was barely audible, the lovely hint of shock painting every word. He refused to admit that he had fantasized about this very idea starting at the time that he was thirteen and Shiro had made his first set of horribly inedible pancakes. There was no way he was going to tell Shiro that buried in his laptop was a scene, written only for himself, of Voltron’s Takashi gingerly delivering a breakfast tray to a healing Voltron Keith in the hospital. It had been self-indulgent but Keith had written it to quell the ache that had always lived in his heart.

Taking a chance at glancing down at Keith, Shiro felt his heart leave his body. Keith was wide-eyed, cheeks tinted pink and looking like he was a million miles away. “Yes?” Shiro answered the question that he wasn’t sure Keith had meant to ask out loud. “You can go back to sleep and I will bring it up here. Then we can stay here… just us… for… I don’t know… however long…” His thoughts faded to black when Keith leaned up to kiss him.

“I would love that,” Keith smiled, brushing Shiro’s bangs off of his head, “so much actually.” He flopped back onto the pillow, feeling his happiness blanketing him in a way that Shiro’s worn quilt could never do. Happily accepting the kiss Shiro offered, Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s bare shoulders, memorizing the moment so he could keep it forever.

When Shiro left the room a few minutes later, throwing a wink over his shoulder and promising to be right back, Keith found it impossible to go back to sleep. Dreaming seemed unneeded when all of his dreams were becoming realities. Unable to sit still, Keith crawled over the bed, retrieving his laptop from his forgotten bag and pulling his glasses from their protective pocket. Settling back in the comfort of Shiro’s pillows, Keith set out to use his energy to keep building the world that he couldn’t wait to share.

* * *

 

Footsteps on the staircase had Shiro looking up from his frying pan, bacon sizzling and crackling in greeting when Matt plodded into the room. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Matt threw himself onto the counter and stole a pancake from the impressively growing stack next to the stove.

“Getting you laid was the best idea I’ve ever had,” Matt spoke with his mouth full, taking another aggressive bite and showing it to Shiro when Shiro poked him in the cheek. “Where is lover boy?” Shoving the rest of his stolen pancake into his mouth, Matt jumped off the counter in pursuit of the fridge.

“In bed,” Shiro smiled. Keith was in his bed, waiting for Shiro to bring him breakfast. The thought alone was enough to make Shiro feel thrillingly giddy.

“Wore him out?” Matt asked, nearly spilling juice from the carton down the front of his shirt when Shiro swatted him with the spatula. “I’m going to forgive you for that,” Matt wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, recapping the juice and setting in back in the fridge, “only because happy Shiro really is the best Shiro.”

“Sappy Matt scares me,” Pidge threw herself down in the nearest chair, letting her head drop on the table. “I _was_ sleeping on the couch but you two are as loud as ever.” Grumpily she smacked at Matt’s attempts to ruffle her hair. “Feed me, Seymour,” she grumbled, wrapping a hand around the coffee cup Shiro placed next to her head. “This is why I like you better.”

Snickering, Shiro returned to his place at the stove, plating the last of the food and pulling the eggs warming in the oven to be added to the spread on the table. Behind him, he had a carefully organized tray of two full plates and coffee to carry down the hallway to Keith.

“That’s so cheesy and I love it,” Matt commented, eyebrows raising when Shiro turned with the tray in his hands. “Domestic bliss,” he sighed, hands under his chin and eyelashes fluttering to mock Shiro.

“Shut up.” Shiro concentrated on navigating the tray in his hands safely toward the hallway and not on Matt’s relentless teasing. “Be a good host when Allura and Coran wake up, okay?” Not waiting for an answer, Shiro headed down the hall back to Keith.

* * *

 

A knock on the door had Keith pulling himself away from the depths of space taking shape on his computer screen. “Come in,” he called, pushing his glasses into his hair, tilting the lid to his laptop closed.

“Good, you’re up.” Allura stepped into the room, tablet in hand and cell phone tucked underneath it. “Big news.”

Sitting further up in the bed, Keith drew his knees to his chest. For reasons he didn’t want to explore, his stomach felt sick despite the smile illuminating Allura’s face. Not speaking, Keith only raised one eyebrow when Allura looked at him.

“The studio wants us, well you specifically, to come out and look at some of the designs in person. They already have prototypes, but they are making modifications based on Shiro’s ideas.” Allura flicked the screen of her tablet, eyes scanning whatever was in front of her. “I don’t know what you said to them when you sent over Shiro’s notes, but they want him to come to. They want to offer him a job, Keith.”

“What…” The words wouldn’t land in Keith’s brain, like moths bouncing off of summer porch lights. Letting his knees drop, he sat up to gape at Allura.

“The studio, they want to hire Shiro for engineering and tech design. They sent me the proposed contract, it is… well it’s quite generous and includes the flexibility to allow him to potentially travel with us for a while on this tour. I hope he won’t mind that I said I was his manager as well, I promise not to take commission.” She stopped speaking and Keith continued to bore holes into the lines of the quilt with his furrowed stare.

“When?” Finally pulling himself from his own jumbled thoughts, Keith rested on the headboard and turned to more fully face Allura. “When do they need a decision? And when would we have to fly out?”

“Well, as far as we’re concerned, we will leave tomorrow. I have chartered a plane to California and we will do the same on Thursday to make sure we arrive at our next scheduled destination on time. They want Shiro to come immediately as well, if he accepts their offer.” Allura shifted her weight, watching Keith intently.

Keith had hoped that they would have the day together, that maybe Shiro would ask Keith to stay longer and Keith could convince Allura to let him fly out closer to their next event. The thought of leaving the next morning had already made him sick, but knowing that he would have no choice in the matter now made his stomach clench painfully.

Selfishly he wanted to spring from the bed, run into the kitchen and declare to Shiro that there might be a way for him to stay in Keith’s world a little longer. They wouldn’t have to navigate the complications of a long distance relationship, something that Keith longed for despite Shiro’s reassurances that they would find a way to make it work. Shiro wouldn’t have to sit at a desk anymore and he could work on something extraordinary and out of this world, the way Shiro had always wanted to do.

The thoughts were selfish though and Keith knew it. Shiro had a life here, a home, a job, and friends who were family. Throughout his life Shiro had always made decisions to make others happy and Keith wasn’t going to let him do that this time.

“I want you to tell him when I’m not around.” Holding up a hand, Keith stopped Allura’s argument in its tracks. “I know, I know, it sounds crazy… but I don’t want him to know I know.” Peering down at his hands, Keith idly laced his fingers in a loose thread. “You don’t understand… Shiro… he wants everyone to be happy, so much so that he would sacrifice his own happiness for it. He followed a boyfriend here to college, and I know for a fact it wasn’t even his first choice of school. I can’t…” Keith closed his eyes, pushing down the threat of tears. “I can’t have him do that for me. It’s his life, it’s his decision and if you tell him… and he thinks that I don’t know… then maybe he’ll make it for himself for once.” Banging his head on the headboard, Keith willed himself not to cry.

The bed dipped, Allura sitting demurely on the edge of it and reaching out to rest a hand on Keith’s knee. “But you want him to say yes, right? You are also very good at sacrificing your own happiness. I promise not to sway him in one way or another, but I want you to tell me what you want.”

“I want him to be happy.” The words felt natural as they filled the space around them. All Keith had ever wanted was for Shiro to be happy and the truth buried itself in his stomach, breaking through the sadness and the sickness building there. “Of course I want him with me. I’ve written us a thousand fairy tale endings in my mind and I can easily dream up another of us working together on the set or Shiro being able to work with the team while touring with us. I could craft the most wonderful life for us. But…” Keith couldn’t hold back the hitch in his words. “None of it matters unless Shiro is happy. I want him to choose what will make him happy. So you have to tell him, alone.”

Standing from the bed, Allura gathered her tablet and phone, looking over her shoulder. “Alright, I will find the time.” She was gone before Keith could argue. Chewing on his bottom lip, Keith found himself lost in thought, wondering how long it would take for Allura to find Shiro and what would happen next. It was out of his hands, but his mind wouldn’t stop weaving obsessive circles on the matter.

Taking two steps backwards down the hall, Shiro attempted to wipe the emotion from his face. He wasn’t sure what to make of the partial conversation that he had heard and he tried to tell himself not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever they were talking about, Keith had sounded upset and Shiro wanted to know exactly what decision involving himself had made Keith so emotional and why Keith was insisting that Allura be the one to talk to him. Schooling the rising anxiety from his face, Shiro pretended to walk down the hall, greeting Allura as she appeared from his room.

“Good morning,” he tried to sound welcoming and winced at the false cheerfulness in his voice. “There’s breakfast on the table, although I would hurry because Matt and Pidge eat… a lot…” he smiled when Allura chuckled.

“Thank you, Shiro,” she said, placing a hand on his elbow as she moved passed him in the hallway. “We won’t take up too much of your space today. Coran and I will head back to the hotel, but you are welcome to keep Keith if you would like.” Her cheeky smile made Shiro blush.

“I’d like that,” Shiro glanced toward the bedroom, spying Keith’s worried looking expression and told himself not to panic. “I promise to bring him back before he turns into a pumpkin.”

“That’s all I ask,” Allura laughed, vanishing around the corner. Shiro listened to her greet Matt and Pidge, smiling at the easy way they all fell into conversation. Deciding they would be fine without him, Shiro turned back toward the bedroom, approaching the bed with cautious footsteps.

“I come bearing breakfast,” he declared, telling himself that Keith didn’t look beautiful in his current state of pensive tension. Nudging Keith’s shoulder with the corner of the tray, Shiro lifted it a little to hide the plates from Keith’s view. “Scoot back so we can eat together.”

Determined to leave all of his spinning thoughts for later, Keith did as he was told, stretching his legs in front of him and wiggling back to his side of the bed. It amused him how easily they had fallen back into old routines like cuddling and particular sides of the bed and for a moment he forgot the potentially life-altering news Allura had thrown in his lap. Reaching up to help Shiro guide the tray onto the bed, Keith’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Are these hippo pancakes?” he asked, plucking the pancake from his plate and holding it up for inspection. “This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. I can’t eat him!” The hippo was chubby in all the right places and Shiro had even given his little face a smile. Grinning with his excitement, Keith sat his pancake back on the plate and reached for his phone.

_I want to do this forever, every day, for the rest of my life_ , Shiro thought, fork stalling over his own breakfast. The thought was dangerous, one that had crept in off and on for as long as Shiro could remember. Listening to the sound of Keith giggling with every snap of his phone, Shiro knew that letting Keith leave now would surely kill him.

Except, Keith didn’t only belong to Shiro. Keith had a life in Texas, he had fans and commitments and a book tour to finish. They had discussed their distance, listing off ways to find time to talk and text in spite of Shiro’s restrictions at work and Keith’s hectic schedule, but suddenly it didn’t feel like enough. Wanting to keep Keith for himself was the most selfish desire Shiro had ever felt and he couldn’t help the feeling of guilt settling into his stomach. Then, Keith turned his bright smile in Shiro’s direction, showing him the collage of pictures he had taken with the caption “best boyfriend ever” and Shiro decided that maybe being selfish, even just for a little while, would be alright.

* * *

 

“Shiro?”

His head came up from the sink full of dishes, spying Allura approaching him cautiously. She held a stack of papers in her hand, balanced on top of her tablet which Shiro had begun to think might be permanently attached to its place there. Humming, he shut off the sink, drying his hands on his jeans and turning to lean back on the counter. The beating of his heart throbbed in his ears, his mind immediately flashing back to the conversation he had briefly heard earlier that morning.

“I was wondering if I could have a word with you before I leave,” Allura nodded toward the dining room table, moving to take a place at one of the seats. She sat the papers in her hand in front of an empty chair and quietly waited for Shiro to join her.

The quiet of the house felt intimidating after the noise of the last twenty-four hours and Shiro winced when his chair scraped over his wood floor. Keith had gone with Pidge to the bookstore to sign a few pieces of merchandise for another giveaway and Coran had followed Matt toward the shed full of old electronics in the backyard. Keith’s voice telling Allura to speak to Shiro alone floated back into Shiro’s mind making his stomach swim with uncertainty. Still struggling to speak around the nerves closing his throat, Shiro met Allura’s eyes with a curious glance.

“As you know, Keith forwarded your notes and design corrections to the studio.” Allura’s hands were folded on the table and Shiro mirrored her position, squeezing his fingers together to calm his nerves. Immediately, he wondered if he had made a mistake or overstepped boundaries and made someone upset. The apology he would write began to draft itself in his mind, specifically designed to emphasize that his missteps were not Keith’s fault.

“Shiro, are you listening to me?” Allura’s hand tapped on his wrist, breaking through the cyclone of thoughts creating mass destruction in Shiro’s head. Sheepishly, he shook his head. “Shiro, they loved your input. So much, in fact, that they would like to hire you for this project… and all of the projects surrounding the production of all the Voltron movies.”

Feeling struck dumb, Shiro blinked down at the paper Allura was pointing to. His hands shook as he slid them under the stack, angling it to more closely examine the words on the page.

“If you accept, they would like you to fly out with us tomorrow. You are welcome to join us on the plane I have chartered, we have plenty of room.” Allura pushed her chair back to stand. “I have reviewed the contract and the terms are more than fair. I don’t know your level of fondness for your current employment or if this is even something you would consider, but the offer is there. Of course, I am willing to help you negotiate any unsatisfactory terms if you should want the help.”

Shiro couldn’t pull himself away from the black and white pages in front of him, even when he registered Allura’s footsteps moving out of the room. Through the confused fog in his mind, Shiro heard himself ask, “Does Keith know?” Silence greeted him and he finally tore his eyes away from the document to find Allura’s back to him. “Allura, does he know?” He knew the answer, and from where Allura stood, back frigid and tense, Shiro could tell she was debating with herself about telling him the truth.

“I was asked to present this offer to you alone,” Allura didn’t turn around, her hand grasped the wood of the door frame as she spoke. “I don’t know you like I know him, but I know that you both want what is best for each other. As far as I can tell, the best thing for both of you _is each other_ , but the choice is yours. Pursue your happiness is all I can tell you.” With the last words of her non-answer, Allura slipped from the room.

“Holy quiznak,” Shiro whispered, one hand running through his hair, the other gripping his potential future in a vice grip, unsure of where he was supposed to go from here.

* * *

 

Streetlamps created an eerie yellow light over the road, interrupting the view of the stars above them and highlighting Shiro’s face with a soft glow. Curling his hands over the small of Shiro’s back, Keith pulled him closer, shivering with the breeze of the night. The metal of Shiro’s car was hard against Keith’s back, but he welcomed the weight of Shiro’s body pressing into his own as they stood tangled together.

Dinner at the Holts’ house had brought back so many memories that Keith had almost been convinced that he hadn’t missed five years of this weekly tradition. In determination to spoil Keith (rotten according to Pidge), Colleen had called all of her children to the house early, leading them through the crafting of the hand-rolled meatballs. The cold meat had been squishy between Keith’s fingers but the kitchen full of laughter had warmed every part of him.

His few hours spent with Pidge in the bookstore had proven to him once again that it was more than just Shiro he had missed. They fell into old habits, teasing and taunting their way through the afternoon. A few fans had approached them where they lay rolling on the ground in shared laughter, and Keith had consented to more selfies and spontaneous autographs. He had taken the opportunity to once again introduce Pidge as his green lion pilot, ruffling her hair and laughing when she punched him in the side.

The minutes had passed quickly, distraction from Allura’s inevitable conversation with Shiro being presented every time Keith turned around. They had arrived at the Holts’ front door only minutes before Shiro and Matt and the chaos had prevented Keith from accidentally asking Shiro about things he wasn’t supposed to know. Even with the close eye he had kept on Shiro throughout the night, Keith couldn’t tell if Allura had approached the subject and he found himself becoming increasingly clingy as the night wore on. Convincing himself that Shiro would assume it had to do with their unavoidable separation, Keith let himself constantly linger in Shiro’s orbit.

Closing his eyes, Shiro tucked his head onto Keith’s shoulder. He smelled like Italian seasonings and Shiro’s shampoo, and it made Shiro’s heart ache for things he couldn’t ask for. Keith had to leave and Shiro had to let him go.

After Allura had left him alone in the dining room, Shiro had spent an hour pouring over every detail of the contract she’d left him with. It was overwhelming, not only in dollar amount, but in the opportunity it presented. This was a project he could have only dreamed about and part of him wanted to jump at the chance without a second thought.

Unfortunately, Shiro did have second, and third, and fourth thoughts.

Keith had asked for Allura to talk with Shiro alone and Shiro still couldn’t understand why. If he was a smart man, he would ask Keith directly, but then he would have to admit that he had overheard their conversation and he wasn’t sure how that would go over. He didn’t have a reasonable thought as to why Keith wouldn’t want to be a part of the discussion and that opened the door to other doubts.

He wasn’t fond of his job, but he didn’t hate it and his team depended on him. It wasn’t designing giant robots or even creating anything that really mattered, but Shiro couldn’t see himself leaving his employer in a lurch. It was true that Shiro’s boss wasn’t the most pleasant of men and no one in the office liked their boss, and yet Shiro couldn’t wrap his head around quitting without notice.

Plus there was a rhythm to his life that Shiro had grown accustomed to. It had taken him so long to finally feel comfortable in his skin again after losing his arm and he had settled in a place where he no longer had to explain the mechanical part of his body. A new job and a new town meant new people, and Shiro wasn’t sure he could handle the new round of explaining his shiny prosthetic.

Keith sighed into Shiro’s shoulder, hands tightening their hold on Shiro’s back until they were pressed flush together from toes to heads. He didn’t know what was going on in Shiro’s mind or if he should ask and Keith felt all the words he could possibly say dying on his tongue. If he didn’t ask Shiro about the offer then he wouldn’t have to hear him reject it.

He did want Shiro to ask him to move to Boston (a realization he came to while stocking books for Pidge). Even though Keith had commitments in other cities, he could write anywhere and even if Shiro didn’t want to uproot his life, Keith could easily do so with his own. Shiro hadn’t asked though, and Keith had no idea where that left them. Feeling scared to let go, Keith clung to Shiro’s back, squeezing his eyes shut and begging himself not to cry.

The sound of tires on asphalt interrupted their silence, the headlights of Keith’s ride flooding over them. With a shouted apology from his window, the driver turned off his lights and told Keith to take his time.

“I hate that I have to sleep without you tonight,” Shiro couldn’t bring himself to look at Keith, knowing that the moment he looked into Keith’s eyes his heart would break. “I understand it, but… I don’t have to like it.”

Chuckling at the obvious pout in Shiro’s voice, Keith buried his face into Shiro’s jacket. He wanted to imprint the feeling of Shiro in his arms so that he could hold onto the memory for as long as it took for him to return to them. “I don’t want you mauled by the paparazzi… and you have work tomorrow…” Keith hoped Shiro couldn’t hear the accidental question in his statement.

“Yeah,” Shiro responded, his cheeks heating as his mind flickered to the contract he had hastily hidden in a kitchen drawer when Coran and Matt had crashed back into the house. He wanted to ask Keith about his opinion on the matter, but before he could get the words out, Keith’s lips were on his. Cupping the back of Keith’s head, Shiro let himself fall into the kiss as an excuse to hold onto Keith a little longer.

Breaking away, Keith curled his hands in the front of Shiro’s t-shirt. The question was on his tongue, his brain was screaming at him to start the conversation to get an answer. Any answer would suffice, because Keith wasn’t going to let Shiro go no matter what his decision was.

“Text me when you get there?” Shiro asked, one hand resting at the crook of Keith’s neck and the other squeezing Keith’s hip. “I can call you when I get off work.”

“Yeah…” Keith tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against Shiro’s, “yeah I can do that.” Although Shiro hadn’t said it explicitly, Keith knew it meant that he was going to California without Shiro. Maybe by the time he got there, Keith would find a way to stop wondering why. “I should go…” he spoke without moving, his stronghold on Shiro’s body conveying a different message than his words.

Moving in for one more kiss, Shiro hoped that Keith could feel his love with every press of their lips. Five years hadn’t changed Shiro’s love for Keith and he was positive that no amount of distance could change it either. Even without a job to bring them closer in physical distance, they didn’t have to leave each other. Shiro wanted Keith to understand that, even though he didn’t have the right words to express it.

Forcing himself to pull away, Keith slid out from his place between Shiro and his car. Some of his uncertainty had evaporated when Shiro had kissed him, but the remaining pieces continued to pierce his heart.

“Keith,” Shiro leaned one hand on his car, waiting until Keith looked back over his shoulder. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Keith replied, his smile filled with bittersweet softness. “Goodnight, Shiro.”

Standing next to his car, Shiro watched Keith disappear into the back seat of his ride, staying rooted to his spot until the car carrying Keith had vanished from his view. Head spinning with his own building regret, Shiro yanked open his door and threw himself behind the wheel.

At the end of the street, Shiro sat at the stop sign.

To the right was Keith’s hotel. There he could find Allura and accept the offer which he had been mulling over for the last handful of hours. He could knock on Keith’s door and announce he was going with him. Maybe Keith would throw himself into Shiro’s arms and they would stay up all night, making love and celebrating the start of new adventures until they had to stumble toward the plane in sleep-deprived euphoria.

To the left was Shiro’s home. His life was dependable and predictable. His friends were wonderful and his life moved at an expected pace. Returning to that life didn’t mean the end of his relationship with Keith and he was sure that they would find a way to make their distance work. He was committed to being in love with Keith and choosing to stay where he was comfortable wouldn’t change that. If the way Keith kissed him tonight was any indication, it wouldn’t change anything for Keith either.

Nodding his head with his own silent decision, Shiro raised a hand to turn on his blinker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unbeta'ed but [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) is still around to answer the important questions! If you want to see my hilarious struggle with this update, you can find the screenshots [here](https://n3rdlif343va.tumblr.com/post/178129320604/this-is-why-i-have-a-beta-and-why-i-am-extremely)
> 
> Also if anyone has commissions open and is willing to draw naked Shiro holding a tray with his dick on it saying "I come baring breakfast" I will give you all my money!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To my hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes the linear story. There is an epilogue which I will post this week and a one-shot that I will post next weekend. Otherwise, we are looking at the end of this AU. Thank you to everyone who has supported this, I so very much appreciate every comment, kudos, hit and note!! 
> 
> Next up will be my entries for the Sheith Prompt Party. Minimum word limit is 500, but I have never been good at minimums, so they are all multiple chapters lol 
> 
> If you want to come hang out, please come find me on Twitter or Tumblr!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Reaching out a heavy arm, Shiro smacked at his alarm determined to silence the devilish blaring breaking through his sleep-deprived haze. His prosthetic hand came down too hard, crushing the top of the clock, sending a crack curling down the screen to distort the red blinking numbers.

Rolling over, Shiro felt the effects of his night of restless sleep, his mind foggy and his stomach queasy as he stared at his own ceiling. The bed was colder without Keith and somewhere around four a.m. he began to truly wonder if he had made a mistake.

The drive back to his house the night before had felt like it had lasted far longer than the actual ten minutes used. Every red light had glared at him, accusing him of being a coward and creating ample time for him to rethink his decision. Under the quietly judgmental red glares, he found himself repeatedly contemplating a possible U-turn, seconds of hesitation and doubt ticking away until the light switched to green and Shiro began to drive forward again.

On a philosophical level, he knew that he was driving backwards, returning to the comfort of a predictable life. The rhythm of the world he knew inside and out which wouldn’t push him from his comfort zone. _Everything would work out_ , Shiro argued with the uncertainty poisoning his stomach, failing to suppress the unsettled feelings churning inside of him.

By the time he had plodded through his front door, Shiro was ready to bury himself in his pillows and be finished with his day. Matt had other ideas though. Standing in their shared kitchen Matt held the contract Shiro had hastily hidden. Groaning, Shiro tried to move down the hall, stubbornly ignoring Matt’s demands to come back.

Unwilling to let Shiro off the hook, Matt had blocked Shiro’s attempts to shut his bedroom door, standing steadfast with his foot squished into the door frame. The fight had been painfully one-sided, Matt’s frustration enough to fill almost forty-five minutes of solid ranting. Unlike Keith, Matt wasn’t going to let Shiro off easy and had spent the better part of an hour shredding every one of Shiro’s reasons for rejecting the offer.

The problem being that Shiro had not actually formally rejected the offer. Even though he had seemingly made his choice, turning away from an uncertain future and returning to the security of predictability, Shiro hadn’t technically closed the door on the opportunity. Letting that fact slip had nearly caused Matt to strangle him, prevented only by Shiro locking himself in his own bathroom until Matt lost the last of his steam. With his back pressed to the closed door, Shiro had let the tears run down his face as Matt made his final pleas for Shiro to give himself a chance to really live. Matt’s exasperated “I won’t destroy the house! And I’ll pay all the damn bills!” were the final words he tossed into the mix before tiredly trudging from Shiro’s room.

After a long, skin-meltingly hot shower, Shiro had dropped into bed face down. Instinctively, he reached for his phone, opening his texts with Keith before he stopped himself. His tears welled again at the single text line.

_Made it back safely. Thank you for everything. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you always._

Feeling the pain sear through his heart, Shiro had let his phone drop to the floor without responding. He knew Keith would love him unconditionally, he knew if any two people could survive a long distance relationship it would be them, but despite all of that, the overwhelming need to have Keith in his arms had left him breathless with longing.

Now, he lay in an empty bed, staring at his ceiling wondering exactly what he was doing. Was a predictable schedule worth this? Was not having to explain his arm or his scars to new people really worth waking up every day without Keith? What the hell was he doing? His stomach rolled again as he sat up, determination battling regret and fueling a brand new line of thinking.

The door to his bedroom slammed open causing Shiro to jump across his bed. Eyebrows knitting in confusion, he watched as Matt stormed into his closet, yanking Shiro’s largest suitcase from its place in the back and throwing it open on the floor.

“What are you…” Shiro shoved the blankets from his legs, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as Matt began to throw clothes into his suitcase.

“You are a moron and I am not standing by and letting you make this mistake. I held my tongue about Adam in high school, and college. I held my tongue when you refused to admit your feelings to Keith back then and for five years while you pined like a goddamn fool. I’ve voiced opinions, but did nothing when you wouldn’t listen. Not anymore.” Stomping across the room, Matt threw open Shiro’s underwear drawer and grabbed fistfuls of briefs, flinging them in the direction of the suitcase on the floor. Pairs of socks flew over his shoulder bouncing in and around the space now occupied by the mound of Shiro’s clothes.

Shiro opened his mouth to tell Matt that he wasn’t going to argue, that he had only just come to the same conclusion about his previous decision and needed help to right his ignorant choice, but he was interrupted again when Matt growled from his spot by Shiro’s dresser. “Shut up. I know you won’t listen to me, so I brought the big guns.” Looking smug, Matt crossed his arms over his chest.

Sam walked into the room, pausing to look between Matt and Shiro and smirking when he spied the haphazard contents of Shiro’s suitcase. “He’ll need a suit and tie,” Sam commented, nodding as Matt hopped over the spilled socks and back into the closet.

“Shiro, listen.” Sam used his best parent voice making Shiro feel sixteen again and caught staring at a picture of himself and Keith sitting on the dock at sunset. “You get one chance at life and you have always lived yours by the book. You were the head of your class at every level, you are the star of your current job, and everything you have done has been perfect. Except, none of it was truly _for you_.” Sitting next to Shiro, Sam kept a firm hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “We love you and we’ll miss you, but it’s time for you to take a chance at something greater.”

“I agree.” Shiro waited patiently for his words to hit home, hands folded in his lap as both Holts blinked at him. “Playing it safe has gotten me here and I don’t regret it. But maybe… maybe it is time to start taking risks. Especially risks that I can take with Keith by my side.”

“YES! FUCK YES! GET UP!” Matt sprang across the room, snagging both of Shiro’s wrists and yanking him toward the bathroom. “Get a shower, we’ll pack your crap and then we’ll get your ass to that plane! You can quit your job after you kiss your man!”

Shaking with nervous excitement, Shiro let Matt shove him toward the bathroom, aware of the fact that he didn’t actually need a shower. Dodging out of Matt’s grasp, he plucked clean clothes from the pile on the floor, his hands still shaking as he disappeared into the bathroom.

He had exactly one hour until the plane carrying Keith, Allura, and Coran to California was going to take off and he had every intention to be on it.

* * *

 

The room was too quiet. Standing with his laptop bag on his shoulder and both of his suitcases dangling from his hands, Keith couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small couch in his hotel room. There he had shared his first kiss with Shiro, the bed in the other room was where they had spent their first night together as a couple. Leaving this space felt like walking out of the dream Keith had constructed for himself and heading back into a reality where he was alone.

He hadn’t slept for even a second, constantly tapping at his phone screen to check for a response from Shiro and then throwing himself into writing as a means of distraction. Hours flew by as Keith hid in his story’s imaginary world to hide from the realities of his real one.

Somewhere around two in the morning, Keith found himself angrily pacing his hotel suite. No matter where he went, memories of Shiro lingered and it was driving him mad. A large portion of him wished Allura had never told him about Shiro’s job offer, wishing for blissful ignorance over the sickening feeling of knowledge.

If he didn’t know the opportunity was there, he would have no reason to feel so worked up over leaving. They had a plan and Keith was willing to stick with it, knowing that a certain level of worry would go along with it. Unfortunately, that worry had tripled with the knowledge that Shiro had a choice for something different.

Exhaustion had brought him to his current level of silence, his brain worn down from hours upon hours of overanalyzing. It had also poisoned him with raw emotions, brimming at the surface of Keith’s consciousness and threatening to spill over as he stood in the room where his relationship with Shiro had finally tipped toward happily ever after.

Angry with himself over all the doubt he was allowing in, Keith inadvertently leveled a scowl in Allura’s direction as she opened his hotel room door. Seeing her expression fade into one of understanding sympathy, Keith let his shoulders drop.

“Ready to go?” Allura asked, speaking softly and not moving from the doorway.

“No,” Keith answered honestly, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he walked toward her anyway. Not daring to look back, Keith moved into the hallway and let the door slam behind him.

* * *

 

The car ride was silent, none of them speaking as they were guided through Monday morning traffic. Circling around the usual departure line, Keith continued to stare blankly out of his window as the car navigated the narrow roads which lead to the private planes. Allura leaned forward to speak to the gate guard, providing the needed information to allow them access to their chartered flight.

Keith was opposed to the spending of money on such frivolous luxuries, which is why they usually comprised and flew regular first class. Allura had assured him that the studio had reimbursed the cost of the plane and that she had located local soldiers who were able to use their first class tickets for their original flights. Feeling more agreeable after being presented with this information, Keith didn’t argue with her over their plans. Instead, he let his head rest back on the seat, wearing his misery like a cheap airplane blanket.

The car stopped outside of the lowered staircase leading into their plane. Feeling the push of Coran’s hand on his shoulder, Keith opened his door and stepped out onto the tarmac. Unlike the commercial flights, this portion of the airport was quiet and the single plane stood waiting for them to board. Retrieving his suitcases from the trunk and handing them off to the uniformed worker, Keith let Allura and Coran take the stairs first.

Taking two steps, Keith stopped, turning over his shoulder to forlornly look back at the guard’s gate. The fantasy of Shiro running toward the plane, declaring his desire to go with them, evaporated as Keith took in the stillness around them. Resolved to let his sadness go, Keith turned to continue up the stairs, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

* * *

 

Tires squealed as Sam hurriedly turned his wheel sending his small sedan screeching in the direction of the private airstrip. The guard sprang from his tiny glass box, arms waving wildly and threats spilling in gruff shouts. Slamming his foot on the brake, Sam turned to look at Shiro.

“They’re boarding!” Matt yelled, shaking Sam’s shoulder from his place in the backseat and flinging open the back door. “That’s Keith!” Pointing forward out of the windshield, Matt reached down to unhook Shiro’s seatbelt. Keith was moving slowly, his shoulders rolled forward but unmistakably determined. “Get out! Get out!” Matt screamed, shoving Shiro forward and knocking him out of his stupor. “Dad and I will distract the guard, hop the fence and make a run for it!”

Stumbling from the car, Shiro barely processed Matt and Sam walking toward the guard, exchanging hurried explanations. He was sure he heard Matt speaking in another language, promising himself he would ask about that later. Throwing his backpack over his shoulder and bracing his suitcases in one hand, Shiro took off at a run toward the gate.

The sound of metal wire and Shiro’s metal hand grinding together became piercing as Shiro one-handedly launched himself over the gate. Sprinting was hard with all of his bags banging against him, but Shiro refused to slow down. “Keith!” he shouted, voice carrying over the almost empty space and bouncing off the airplane hanger. He went to yell again, the words catching in his throat as he watched Keith turn around at the top of the staircase.

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, tossing his bags into the plane and ignoring Coran’s startled yelp as they crashed into his lap. Throwing himself down the stairs, Keith began to run, tears falling now for a different reason.

They collided, Shiro’s bags scattering over the ground as they threw themselves into each other’s arms. “You’re here, you came,” Keith cried, arms crushing around Shiro and refusing to loosen even when Shiro return the hard squeeze.

“You knew,” Shiro was somewhere between laughing and crying, burying his face in Keith’s neck and letting himself be crushed in Keith’s tight hold. “You knew and you made sure that I could make my own decision. But I almost made the wrong one. You have to stop trusting me to be smart.” He felt Keith’s laughter as he wrapped his arms further around Keith’s body.

“I want you to be happy, even if it means you are dumb and happy,” Keith pulled back, moving his hands to cup Shiro’s cheeks. “Does this mean…” he was terrified to ask the question.

“I am happiest when I am with you,” Shiro spread his hands over Keith’s back, running them up and down before settling on Keith’s hips. Why he ever thought giving up the opportunity to spend every possible second with Keith was a good idea was completely beyond Shiro’s rational thoughts. “Being with you is the smartest thing I could ever do. You have always made me feel like I could do anything, and I need to embrace that, and stop hearing the voices in my head that make me scared. So yeah, this means, I’m going with you. I’m taking the job. This is our adventure now.”

There were too many emotions knotting in Keith’s throat for him to answer in words, so instead he pulled Shiro into a kiss. His head felt light, his heart exploding within him as the fantasy he had nearly given up on came true in his arms. Shiro was here, Shiro was going with him, and Keith knew that nothing could stop them now.

“Come on you two!” Allura stood at the door of the plane with Coran, both of them looking questionably emotional.

“I really am going to kill her,” Keith joked, tipping up on his toes to kiss Shiro again, feeling the vibrations of Shiro’s chuckle on his lips.

“Let’s go make a movie,” Shiro smiled, finally releasing Keith and moving to collect his suitcases from the ground. The exuberant shouting from behind them made them both turn, laughing as Matt and Sam celebrated on the other side of the gate. Waving his goodbye, Shiro promised himself he would text them both properly once he was settled.

Taking the suitcases from Shiro’s arms, Keith handed them over to be loaded on the plane. Kissing Shiro on the cheek, Keith nodded up the stairs. “Go ahead and board, I’ll be right back.” Leaving Shiro to the welcoming arms of Allura and Coran, Keith jogged back to where Matt and Sam stood.

Waving to the thoroughly confused guard, Keith pointed to the gate. Waiting impatiently for it to open, Keith squeezed through the slowly opening gate and immediately found himself in the arms of the Holt men. Grinning, Keith returned the hug. “Thanks, guys,” Keith whispered.

“Be happy,” Sam said, letting Keith go and ruffling his hair. “And visit whenever you want to. You’ll always have a family with us. Don’t forget that.”

“And if Shiro is an idiot, call me.” Taking advantage of his dad stepping away, Matt grabbed Keith in a closer hug. “Happy endings aren’t for suckers, Keith.”

Feeling himself pushed back by his shoulders, Keith smiled at Matt. “I know. I promise to give him one.” Patting Matt on his hand, Keith moved toward the gate. “We’ll let you know when we get there safely. Tell Pidge I’ll call her later.” Throwing one more wave over his shoulder, Keith turned to walk toward the plane.

Settling into his seat, Keith smiled as Shiro laced their fingers together, letting his head drop onto Shiro’s shoulder. No matter what happened when they touched down in California, Keith knew they could handle it. Humming as his eyelids began to droop, Keith twisted to snuggle closer to Shiro’s side, listening as Shiro’s breathing slowed to match his own. Tangled together, they both fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

 

The flight had passed without either of them being conscious of the time, both Shiro and Keith catching up on the sleep they hadn’t gotten the night before. Even though he couldn’t remember any part of it, Keith was sure it was the best plane ride he had ever taken, stretching himself awake while Shiro stirred beside him. Smirking, Keith unclipped his belt and twisted to kiss Shiro into consciousness.

“We’re here.” Speaking softly, Keith pecked kisses on Shiro’s cheeks, humming when Shiro angled his head with puckered lips, eyes remaining closed as he waited for Keith to comply with his wordless request. Unwilling to deny Shiro anything, Keith met his lips with a quick peck.

Once they pulled themselves apart, after Coran had cleared his throat an alarming amount of times, they held hands as they disembarked following behind Allura and Coran to a waiting limousine. According to Allura’s schedule, they were heading directly for the production studio where they would receive a tour of the already completed sets and attend a handful of meetings. They would be checking into their hotel only briefly by mid-afternoon and then attending a dinner that night.

Shiro’s head spun with each detail Allura threw at them, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the tight schedule they were already being forced into. Feeling Keith’s hand squeeze his leg, Shiro shot him a weak smile.

“Allura likes to say everything out loud, but I only remember half of it.” Keith batted at the crumpled napkin Allura tossed at his face. “I remember my first tour and how insane it all sounded, but I promise… if I can do it, you can do it. You were always better with people than I was.”

“Which isn’t hard,” Coran added, taking a swig of his water bottle. “When we first starting working with Keith, it was more of a challenge to keep him from punching someone than anything else.”

Throwing his arm around Keith’s shoulders, Shiro pulled him close. “That sounds like the Keith I remember,” nuzzling his face in Keith’s hair. Shiro held him tight when Keith tried to playfully shove him away. “Not so much anymore. Now I’ll be following your lead.” Loving the way Keith’s cheeks bloomed with color, Shiro placed his other hand on Keith’s knee. “We’ve got this.”

Resting his hand on top of Shiro’s, Keith smiled. “I know we do.”

* * *

 

A brief tour of the constructed sets had left them all feeling a little giddy. Keith had jumped around on the various platforms of the castle’s main room and laughed at Allura’s goofy impression of his princess when she stood at the center of the controls. They were like children let loose on a high-tech playground and each of them took turns reciting famous lines from Keith’s books.

If Shiro had been impressed seeing the sets, it was nothing compared to the feelings he got from seeing the model lions. The team members introduced themselves, happily surrounding Shiro and begging him for immediate input on the creations developing right in front of his eyes. He was handed a tablet and a stack of plans, letting himself be pulled toward the largest of the working robotic pieces. Fascinated, he found himself crawling over and under each of the model pieces, overlaying the image from his tablet to the model being built.

From his place leaning on the wall, Keith watched Shiro work. He had his own meetings to attend and would have to leave Shiro for a bit, but he couldn’t say he regretted that obligation. Shiro was talking a mile a minute, pausing only when falling into deep thought and then spilling out ideas that made the other creators bounce with excitement. The young team was clinging to Shiro’s every word and Keith could feel himself filling with pride every time Shiro boldly declared another change or adjustment.

“I knew we would find you here.” Allura stepped through the metal door, followed closely by the director of the movie and the movie’s two biggest stars. Dropping his crossed arms, Keith reached out a hand to shake Kolivan’s offered one.

“Keith, good to see you.” Kolivan was all business, but Keith could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“Keith!” Strong arms clamped around Keith’s shoulders, tugging him into a hug.

Chuckling, Keith patted Hunk’s arm. “Hi there, Hunk, good to see you buddy.” Although Keith followed both actors on Instagram, he had initiated more regular contact with Hunk. Spying Allura looking flustered while talking to the other lead, Keith rolled his eyes with amusement. Feeling his feet return to the ground, Keith looked over his shoulder to catch Shiro’s attention and wave him over. “Guys, this is Shiro.”

“Oh, man, it’s an honor for real,” Hunk clasped Shiro’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I mean when I saw your picture, I was like, no way am I supposed to be that guy, I mean look at you!” Waving both hands up and down at Shiro’s body, Hunk shook his head. “But, my little sister loves you and I swear, I might not be a beefcake like you, but I will do you proud.”

Before Keith or Shiro could protest, Lance appeared at Hunk’s side throwing his arm over Hunk’s shoulders and shaking him. “What are you talking about?! You are a total beefcake!” Lance offered his free hand to Shiro. “Lance McClain aka Keith Kogane. I get to play that guy.” Firing a finger gun over Hunk’s shoulder in Keith’s direction, Lance smirked. “Good thing he picked someone so much better looking than the real thing.”

“Lance,” Keith, Hunk, Kolivan and Allura all said in unison, making everyone including Lance laugh.

“Did you guys hear about Zarkon?” Hunk asked, shrugging until Lance let him go. “That guy is a real piece of work by the way.”

Exchanging glances with Shiro, Keith shook his head at Hunk. “We slept through the flight and then came straight here. I haven’t even turned on my phone.” His stomach felt sour with all the possibilities his imagination was whipping up in his mind.

“Ah, man, let me tell them!” Lance leaned his elbow on Keith’s shoulder instead of Hunk’s, earning him a raised eyebrow from Shiro. “Don’t worry, I don’t want your man, Shiro,” Lance said, throwing his hands up. “Allura and I are working on our thing.”

Shiro noted the deep blush on Allura’s cheeks and felt an endearing pull in his heart for her. Her fond glance in Keith’s direction was adorably shy in a way Shiro didn’t know she could be and he found himself enjoying the contrast from her normally poised exterior.

“Anyway,” Keith remarked, waving his hand. Allura and Lance had met at Lance’s audition and he assumed that they had stayed in contact, but he could ask Allura about it later. Right now, he needed to know if Zarkon was going to be causing more trouble.

“Anyway,” Lance mocked, placing his hand on his hip and waving the other as he talked. “It seems as if somehow the IRS got a hold of Zarkon’s financials for his gossip rag and he has been embezzling from the company for years. The company owns a bunch of smaller publications as well, and Zarkon was also stealing from them. There is a pretty awesome picture of him getting hauled out in handcuffs this morning.” Unlocking his phone, Lance tapped on it until he flipped it around to show off a very disgruntle picture of Zarkon.

“I couldn’t believe it when I read the news,” Allura said, moving closer to the group and blushing again when Lance put an arm around her waist. “I don’t understand how they got ahold of all his records but it seems as if their case is a solid one.”

“I have an idea,” Shiro couldn’t say for sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that a call to the youngest Holt would confirm his thoughts. “Keith has some pretty smart people on his side. People who don’t like seeing him hurt.”

Cluing in, Keith peered at Shiro with wide eyes. “You think… Pidge?” He wouldn’t put it past her, considering Pidge had hacked their high school’s website on numerous occasions just for the fun of it and Keith figured her skills had only grown from there.

“Wait, the bookstore owner, right?” Hunk asked, looking between Shiro and Keith. “I want to meet her. She seems awesome. I saw her rant at Zarkon from your signing. What a fireball!”

“You have no idea,” Keith laughed. A gruff scoffing had him stopping before he could finish his thought. Looking at Kolivan, Keith waited for whatever he was planning to say.

“This reunion has been fun,” Kolivan pushed open the door from which they had entered, “but we have some work to do. Shall we?” Turning his back on the group, Kovilan walked out.

“He’s going to be a blast to work with,” Lance muttered. “Let’s go, Takashi!” Letting go of Allura, Lance leaped into Hunk’s arms. “Look at those two and tell me this isn’t something they would do! Now carry me away my big strong space pilot!”

“That’s not-” Keith’s argument died on his tongue as Shiro picked him up exactly how Hunk was stumbling away holding Lance. “Not helping,” Keith laughed, poking Shiro in the chest.

“Not even pretending that I want to,” Shiro bantered back, angling his neck to kiss Keith. He chuckled when he heard Hunk yell, “I’m not kissing you unless they are paying me to do it! You’re not my type!” Placing Keith safely back on the ground, Shiro looked over his shoulder when one of the engineers called his name. “Good luck today,” he said, kissing Keith again.

“Have fun,” Keith responded, wrapping his arms around Shiro and pulling him into a hug. “Take care of my robots. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” Feeling a tug on the back of his shirt, Keith rolled his eyes and let Allura pull him toward the door.

Shiro turned to look around the workshop, his heartbeat quickening as he watched all of the team members at work. Giant claws were being built in the back corner while models of each lion were walking across an elevated table. Everyone was talking excitedly, tossing out ideas and revising notes and plans as they went. Posted on a wall length bulletin board were designs showing Shiro’s signature at the bottom, red exclamation points and even bigger red circles excitedly emphasizing every one of his changes. The entire atmosphere vibrated with excitedly nerdy energy and Shiro let himself absorb it, taking a second to etch this moment into his mind. Today was the start of his adventure and Shiro couldn’t wait begin.

* * *

 

“Oh my god,” Shiro collapsed onto the bed, bare back pressing against the hotel’s standard sheets, “what an amazing day.” Folding his hands behind his head, Shiro eyed Keith’s naked body as he toweled himself off in the doorway of the bathroom. “I feel like I could run forty miles or bench press a bus. I’m so jazzed right now!” Bouncing his foot, Shiro unfolded his arms to catch Keith’s waist when his boyfriend straddled his hips. They had just taken a very steamy joint shower, but Shiro could already feel his arousal building again.

“So, happy with your decision?” Keith’s intention was to tease, but even he could hear the insecurity in his question. Letting himself be knocked onto his back, Keith ran his fingers through Shiro’s damp hair as he waited for an answer.

“Keith…” Shiro leaned on his elbows, bracing himself on either side of Keith’s head. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I didn’t jump at this immediately. Maybe I was scared, maybe I thought you wouldn’t want me, or maybe it was a million different maybes. But I knew as soon as I saw you running down the stairs that I was making the right decision… and every minute after that…. It just cemented that fact.” Tears caught in Shiro’s eyelashes as he blinked and he closed his eyes to let Keith wipe them away. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this world you created. I will try to deserve my place.”

“No,” Keith shook his head, waiting until Shiro opened his eyes to explain. “Shiro this whole world exists because of _you_. Every word I have ever written was because I was inspired… by you. I wanted to give you a world that was deserving of your greatness… and you don’t have to prove you belong here… because this world was always yours.” Gently pushing Shiro’s shoulder, Keith moved from the bed, rummaging through his suitcase and producing paperback copies of each of the first six Voltron books.

Returning to sit cross-legged on the bed, Keith spread them out in order. “Just… listen for a second.” Opening the first cover, Keith read, “to the one who forced me to believe in myself.” Closing the book, he picked up the next. “To the one who never gave up on me.” Choking up, Keith picked up the third book, not daring to look directly at Shiro. “To the one who always told me to reach for the stars.”

“Keith…” Shiro sat up, also choking up as Keith picked up the fourth book.

“To the person who has never left my heart.” Keith read, his voice growing unsteady as Shiro placed a hand on his knee. Carefully opening the fifth book, Keith read, “to the one who taught me to take chances.” Finally, Keith opened the sixth book and he knew by the hitch in Shiro’s breath that he already knew the words. “To my hero.” Laying the book on the bed, Keith swallowed before lifting his eyes to Shiro.

“I have dedicated every book I have ever written… to you.” Tears fell over Keith’s chin, and he let himself lean into Shiro’s touch when his hand rested on Keith’s cheek. “I am what I am today because of you. This is where you belong, helping me create this world because this world wouldn’t exist without you.”

“Keith…” Shiro exhaled, reaching forward to wrap his arms around Keith. He couldn’t find the words to express all of the emotions welling up inside of him, so he held onto Keith, letting himself be pressed back onto the bed. “You’ve always seen me, the real me, and you’ve always challenged me to be my best. If anyone is the hero here, it’s you.” Seeing Keith’s eyes go wide, Shiro felt his heart melt over Keith’s genuine surprise. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen. Since the day that my grandfather said I was too scrawny to be a successful wrestler and you told me to prove him wrong. You even bought me that container of horrible protein powder, even though I knew you didn’t have a spare nickel to your name. You’ve always believed in me and stubbornly never believed in yourself. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become and I’m so lucky to be the man who gets to love you.”

Fisting his hand in Shiro’s hair, Keith kissed him with all the overwhelming emotion that was threatening to tear him apart at the seams. He didn’t want to argue with Shiro over who was the luckiest in their relationship, because he knew that they were both defying the odds by finding their way back to each other. They didn’t need to continue to hash out the details of who believed in who, because they both knew that their relationship was built on the foundation of the inherent belief that the other one was the greatest human to ever exist.

Running his hands up Keith’s back, Shiro adjusted his legs so Keith could lie flush against him, never breaking their kiss. Shiro had memorized every word in Keith’s books for five years, pouring over every sentence and obsessing over their meaning. He had loved the world that Keith had created, using it as an escape from his own life, but a part of him always felt like he was cheating, like he was borrowing Keith’s world when in reality, Shiro had left Keith behind. Discovering that Keith’s world had always been meant as a gift to Shiro, a place where Shiro was always meant to be, felt like coming home.

As they kissed, falling deeper into each other and letting the rest of the world fall away, all of the fantasies Keith had created in his mind began to fade. Like the books being shoved from the bed, Keith’s fictitious ideas for their life were shoved away to the back of his mind, making room for the real memories beautifully taking their places.

Their history was carved in stone, each memory a detail which created the path that lead them here to each other. Those stones weren’t perfect, some were cracked from bad steps and poor choices, but the path was theirs. Even in the places where it diverged, during the times they had to walk alone, they had never been far from each other’s hearts. The past was there to remind them and guide them with the lessons already learned.

Their future remained beautifully unwritten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want all their endings to be happy beginnings... (beautiful, cheesy, lovely happy beginnings lol)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As many times as it takes
> 
> Incredible art for this chapter was created by the fabulous [bootyfeathers](https://bootyfeathers.tumblr.com) of our boys in their black tuxes and rainbow ties ;) Please go check it out [HERE](https://bootyfeathers.tumblr.com/post/178608741703/later-the-photographer-who-caught-the-picture-of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I be cheesy for a minute? Because I am going to be cheesy for a minute... 
> 
> This is my first multi-chapter Voltron fic and finishing it is leaving me with this weird sense of sadness. Even though I still have a one-shot to share with everyone, I still feel sort of... lost... leaving this world behind. I want to thank everyone who joined me on this journey and who ventured into this world with me. Your comments, kudos, reblogs and likes have made me smile with every update and I am so grateful for each one of you! 
> 
> I hope that you will take a chance on my next three stories, but even if you don't, thank you for taking a chance on this one. 
> 
> With this, I officially say "goodbye" to Unwritten. 
> 
> If you feel up for it, come say hi on Twitter or Tumblr :)  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

**One Year Later**

“Stupid, quiznacking… why do I… murder Coran…” Flipping the edge of his tie over the knot for a fifteenth time, Keith muttered under his breath, feeling frustrated and tipping toward deranged. The silk was too slippery and unpredictable and Keith was hating Coran’s insistence on the colored strand of assholery more and more with every failed attempt to secure the death trap around his neck. Gritting his teeth, Keith angrily undid the knot again, listening to the sound of his own grinding jaw as he started over.

From his spot on the edge of the bed, Shiro watched Keith’s reflection in the mirror. His own tux had been carefully buttoned and tucked for nearly twenty minutes, leaving him free to observe Keith’s under-his-breath threats as he attempted to make sense of his own. Resting back on the heels of his hands, Shiro admired the stunning cut of Keith’s tux pants and the beautiful way they highlighted Keith’s perfect ass. Keith might hate Coran’s choice for their evening attire, but Shiro was loving every inch of it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Keith shouted, ripping the tie from his neck again and balling it in his fists. Closing his eyes and tipping his head toward the ceiling, Keith silently prayed for this time to work.

“Baby,” Shiro inquired, “how many times are you going to try to tie that thing?” He kept his eyes level on Keith’s reflection, admiring the way Keith’s cheeks had flushed throughout all of his efforts.

“As many times as it takes,” Keith grumbled, brows furrowing again as he finally looked up and caught Shiro’s teasing smirk in the mirror. “You know, if you loved me, you would have strangled me with this thing by now so we wouldn’t have to go tonight.” Pouting in Shiro’s direction, Keith let his hands drop to his sides.

What he really wanted to do was walk to the bed and shove Shiro down on it. There was some level of vast unfairness regarding how easily Shiro had slipped into his tux and how otherworldly his body looked in the tailored fabric. Coran had made them buy these stupid outfits, and Keith was going to make sure that the money spent was worth his agony by spending a ridiculously long amount of time stripping Shiro out of it. Almost falling victim to his own desires, Keith felt a wave of disappointment when Shiro stood up.

“How about I help you out?” Crossing the room, Shiro turned Keith by his shoulders, running his knuckles down Keith’s torso with intimate levels of contact unneeded to retrieve the ends of Keith’s tie. Adjusting the loop around Keith’s neck, Shiro carefully wound the tie into a knot to mirror his own. “You’re nervous,” he commented, flicking a glance to Keith’s face as he made the final adjustments to the knot at Keith’s neck.

“No…” Keith turned to face the mirror, eyes tracking Shiro’s hands as they folded Keith’s collar down and rested on Keith’s hips. “I mean… yeah. I don’t like people. Why do I even have to go? No one cares if the writer is at the movie premiere. We could just like… watch it on Netflix or something.” Hearing Shiro’s chuckle, Keith tried to concentrate on the sound, leaning back against Shiro’s chest. “And the movie could be awful. I mean… lots of movies are awful.”

“Hey, we both have a part in this, and together we’ve never made anything awful.” Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist and rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder.

“Remember that time we tried to make brownies from scratch?” Letting his head drop on Shiro’s shoulder, his fingers traced random patterns on Shiro’s forearms. “Or remember our first potato canon? It took Matt weeks to regrow his eyebrows.” Feeling Shiro’s chuckle this time, Keith tried to calm himself, eyes roaming over his own reflection. “I look ridiculous.”

Despite the softness of the fabric and the fact that Coran had made sure the fit was perfect, Keith longed for the comfort of his t-shirts and jeans. He refused to even think about the polished dress shoes sitting next to the door of their room, wiggling his toes in his red dress socks.

“I think you look gorgeous,” Shiro argued, releasing Keith’s waist to run his hands down Keith’s arms and then up the front of his thighs. “I’ve been watching you fight your tie for twenty minutes and the whole time I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to take you out of this…piece,” he ran a finger over Keith’s belt buckle, “by…” trailing his fingers over Keith’s fly, he felt the twitch of Keith’s interest, “piece.”

Twisting in Shiro’s arms, Keith grabbed the lapels of Shiro’s jacket. “Keep it up and we’re not making it out of here.” Kissing Shiro hard, Keith curled his fingers tighter into Shiro’s clothing. “On second thought…” kissing Shiro’s neck, Keith felt the bob of Shiro’s Adam’s apple, “keep it up.”

Using every ounce of self-restraint he possessed, Shiro tightened his grip on Keith’s hips and pushed to put distance between them. “You’re not fooling me. You are using my lust for you to try and avoid this.” He laughed when Keith nipped at his bottom lip. “Come on, find your jacket and put on your shoes, Cinderella. It’s time for the ball.”

“That is not appealing,” Keith scowled, reaching down to palm Shiro’s erection and then abruptly letting go to locate the rest of his monkey suit. Shiro’s groan at the loss of contact felt like sweet revenge for Shiro’s own teasing. With a sneer at the black fabric in his hands, Keith hesitated, staring at the jacket that would be the second to last piece of his formal armor for the night.

“Allow me.” Pulling the jacket from Keith’s hands, Shiro held it up to help Keith slide his arms into it. Once again spinning Keith around, Shiro tugged on the front of it, straightening the shoulders and standing back to admire Keith. For a man who usually looked irresistible in plain t-shirts, Keith looked tantalizingly perfect dressed in his tux. “Good God, I don’t know if I can handle you dressed like this all night.” Wrapping a hand around Keith’s tie, Shiro gently pulled him forward. “Warn me if I start drooling, okay?”

“Yeah right,” Keith rolled his eyes, arms circling Shiro’s waist. “Have you looked at yourself? You’re going to break necks tonight.” Kissing Shiro’s neck, Keith momentarily considered placing a hickey above the line of Shiro’s collar.

A knock on the door had Shiro drawing back. “Let’s go, you two!” Allura called from the hallway and Shiro had to bite back his laugh as Keith muttered another death threat. Offering his arm to Keith, Shiro smiled when a tentative hand rested on his forearm.

Pausing at the door to shove his feet into the worst excuse for shoes Keith had ever seen, he let himself lean on Shiro more than was strictly necessary. Although he had admitted to being nervous, he wasn’t sure that Shiro knew exactly how nervous he was. His stomach had been in knots from the moment their plane had landed and Keith was sure he was slowly losing his mind. As much as he wanted to see his movie on the big screen, he also wanted to hide away and let everyone else suffer through the experience.

Putting a reassuring arm around Keith’s waist, Shiro opened the door and smiled at Allura who was dressed in a long purple gown. She also looked Keith-levels of nervous, and instinctively, Shiro pulled them both into a group hug. When he finally released them, he smiled at their matching red cheeks.

“The red carpet awaits,” Shiro joked, guiding Keith from the hotel room and shutting the door behind him.

“Quiznak,” Keith cursed, falling in step beside Shiro and following Allura down the hallway toward his doom.

* * *

 

Bright lights flashed in time with the shouts of Keith’s name over the crowd. Behind him, held back by body guards and metal railings, were lines of fans screaming and crying as the cast of Voltron made their way down the red carpet. To Keith’s left, Matt and Pidge were avoiding the interviewers, dressed to impress but unknown to the people who were competing to take the best picture. To Shiro’s right, Lance refused to take any pictures without Allura pressed to his side, loudly defying the photographers’ requests and demanding that they include “his better half.” Keith wouldn’t admit it to Lance, but he and Allura made a stunning pair, rivaled only by Shiro and Keith in their coordinating black tuxes.

“I still think the rainbow ties are a little much,” Keith murmured in Shiro’s ear, letting himself be turned toward another camera and smirking in the direction of another flashing blub. Coran had told Shiro he could smile as much as he wanted to balance out Keith’s inability to properly smile in public. The comment had made Shiro laugh and Keith pout, but Keith couldn’t argue the validity.

Peering down at Keith, Shiro’s smile became more lovesick goofy than camera ready. Even though he could feel Keith’s hand shaking where it was pressed on Shiro’s lower back, the rest of him looked calm, collected, and unbelievably sexy. Tilting his mouth towards Keith’s ear, Shiro whispered, “I’m having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about you right now.”

Later, the photographer who caught the picture of the notoriously stoic Keith Kogane smiling softly with his head tipped down and his cheeks tinted pink would sell the picture for enough money to pay his rent for a year and start an online riot about Keith’s softness with Shiro. In the moment though, Keith could only feel the gentle graze of Shiro’s breath over his cheek and the solid beat of Shiro’s heart pressed tight against his shoulder. Every second of their journey down the red carpet had been for someone else, but Keith felt safe in Shiro’s embrace, concentrating on sharing each moment with the love of his life.

* * *

 

The lights in the theater slowly brightened, the soundtrack of the movie’s credits drowned out by the thunderous applause of the viewers. Every single person was on their feet, cheering and celebrating the cinematic success of Voltron.

Every single person, except one.

Keith remained rooted to his chair, hands clamped over the lower half of his face, eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing his world go from a place inside of his mind to visible reality had overwhelmed him in every way possible. Hunk and Lance had captured every nuance of his characters, playing them on screen better than Keith could have ever written them. Every scene had been magic and Keith felt his emotions washing over him, drowning him in all the best ways.

“I am so proud of you.” A hug crushed Keith, Allura throwing herself into his arms with tears running down her face. “Keith, I don’t even have the words. There aren’t words.” Hugging him tightly, Allura cried on his shoulder.

“ _I_ don’t even have words,” Keith whispered, finally letting himself hug Allura back. “It’s because of you that this is all happening. Thank you, Allura. Thank you so much.” He buried his head into the fluff of Allura’s hair as his tears got the best of him.

“They are cheesy,” Lance commented, clapping a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “And I should be getting those hugs. I’m the one who just kicked some serious ass on that screen.”

Throwing an arm around Lance’s shoulders, Shiro rubbed his fist into Lance’s hair, treating him the same way Shiro had always treated Pidge. “You did good, kid,” Shiro laughed, letting his arms drop when Lance squawked. Moving his smile in Keith’s direction when Allura stepped aside, Shiro reached down to pull Keith to his feet. “I think you have a hit on your hands.”  

“I want to say no,” Keith focused wide eyes on the scrolling words moving over the screen, “but not even I can argue about it. I can’t believe…”

“If you say you can’t believe it was so good, I’m dumping you,” Shiro teased, pinching Keith’s chin. “Keith, accept it, this is amazing. And I’m not just saying that because my robots are in it.” Catching Keith as he threw himself into Shiro’s arms, Shiro didn’t hesitate to swing him in a circle.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Keith pressed his face into Shiro’s chest, “thank you for everything.”

Before Shiro could respond, people began to flood them, demanding Keith’s attention. Keeping a firm hand on Keith’s waist, Shiro stayed by his side, admiring the way Keith handled himself with the questions and praise being fired in his direction.

Shiro remembered the angry little six-year-old who had dented his grandfather’s trashcans. He remembered the boy who failed to jump a line of those same trashcans on his bike. He remembered trips to the lake when they were barely old enough to understand the changes happening to their bodies, and campfires where they discussed their newfound sexualities. He remembered their almost kiss, and all the kisses they had shared since.

He remembered the moment on their hill, when Shiro had gone to say goodbye to Keith and the moment they had reunited over the table in Pidge’s bookstore. He remembered their first dance in the bar in Boston, and all of their sock-footed dancing in their now shared home in Texas. He remembered running into Keith’s arms outside of a private plane, the day life had changed forever.

Maybe he had known it from the moment he laid eyes on Keith for the first time, or maybe it had been the five years apart that had finally clued him in, but Shiro knew without a doubt that he had found his soulmate in the middle of this crazy excursion they called life. His soulmate had created a world to showcase their love and although it was still a secret to everyone else, Shiro knew Keith had written their fictional counterparts a happy ending.

Feeling his heart swell in his chest when Keith’s eyes met his, Shiro leaned down to steal a kiss, uncaring about the people around them.

For all the mistakes Shiro had made and all the decisions that had led him in the wrong direction, Keith had never given up on their happy ending. Keith had never given up on Shiro.

Prepared to spend every day of the rest of his life being Keith’s hero, Shiro dipped him lower to kiss Keith deeper while the occupants of the theater cheered for them. “You’re my happy ending,” he whispered as he set Keith back on his feet.

“And you’re mine,” Keith answered, love flowing in every word.

With arms wrapped securely around each other’s waists, they were prepared to endure the rest of the evening celebrating the success of their movie. And when the public celebration was over, they would return to their hotel room where their real celebration could finally begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider checking out my other Voltron stories on [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/works?fandom_id=10104017) and subscribing to me to get updated when I post the next 3 Sheith stories - all posting to completion by November 30th! (Also, I have two one-shots and an Allurance fic coming!)
> 
> Thank you all for your support!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) who hasn't watched Voltron yet but still read this story!!


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